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A   GENTLEMAN   OF   QUALITY 


WITH  A  QUICK  MOTION  LADY  MERCY 
STEPPED  BETWEEN  ASHTON  AND  THE 
DOOR"  (Seepage  154* 


A 


By 


watt 

Author  of  "  The  Magic  Story 


With  a  frontispiece  in  color  by 
3Frattk  ^.  3Fatrhanka 


IflBtOtt    :::     H.  01.  $80* 

(Eompattg      ::: 


Copyright,  1909 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

Entered  at  Stationer's  Hall,  London 
All  rights  reserved 


First  Impression,  February,  1909 
Second  Impression,  March,  1909 


Elcctrotypcd  and  Printed  at 
THE  COLONIAL  PRESS: 
C.  H. Sirnonds  CBS.  Co., Boston, U.S.A. 


DEDICATED     TO 

IDorot&p  an 


222554Q 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  THE  COINCIDENT i 

II.  THE  INCIDENT 10 

III.  THE  INTERVAL 38 

IV.  THE  STORY  —  ROBERT'S  DELUSION  ...  52 
V.  ROBERT'S  DELUSION  —  A  FUTILE  HOPE.       .  66 

VI.  A  COLLAPSE  AND  A  CONFESSION      ...  84 

VII.  THE  PORTRAIT  OF  SIR  RODERICK    .       .       .  101 

VIII.  THE  IDENTIFICATION  MARK      .       .       .       .  in 

IX.  BEHIND  THE  PORTRAIT 126 

X.  THE  ONLY  WAY 138 

XI.  THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA      .       .       .  145 

XII.  AT  HERTFORD'S  FAVOURITE  CLUB    .       .       .161 

XIII.  THE  FANCY  OF  DELIRIUM 177 

XIV.  WHAT  HAPPENED  DURING  CONVALESCENCE  .  189 
XV.  WHICH  OF  Two  EVILS? 198 

XVI.  THE  QUALITY  OF  A  SIN 207 

XVII.  THE  HAND  OF  GOD 215 

XVIII.  THE  NEW  LIFE 226 

XIX.  FEELING  His  WAY 235 

XX.  A  STRANGE  THING  UNDER  THE  SUN       .       .  246 

XXI.  ROBERT  Is  PUT  ON  THE  RACK.       .       .       .  257 

XXII.  Two  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE 268 

XXIII.  THE  MEETING 287 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

XXIV     THE  CONFESSION                .... 

PAGB 

208 

XXV.    A  STIRRING  OF  DEEP  PASSIONS 
XXVI.    THE  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY     . 

•    3*3 
•    323 

334. 

A  GENTLEMAN  OF 
QUALITY 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    COINCIDENT 

THE  wedding  bells  were  ringing  from  the  tower 
of  the  Church  of  the  Annunciation  in  London. 
The  occasion  was  the  celebration  of  the  marriage 
of  Lady  Mercy  Covington  to  Lord  John  Make- 
peace Hertford,  ninth  earl  of  Ashton  and  Cow- 
ingford,  and  because  the  bride  had  for  three 
seasons  been  the  acknowledged  beauty  of  London, 
the  function  was  of  unusual  importance.  For 
three  successive  seasons  she  had  swayed  the 
social  world  about  her,  and  her  marriage  now  to 
the  man  of  her  choice  was  considered  an  event. 
The  young  earl,  just  past  thirty,  was  a  man  of 
sterling  qualities  and  irreproachable  character, 
and  in  his  own  way  was  quite  as  prominent  a 

l 


2         A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

favourite  as  the  bride.  Lady  Mercy  and  Lord 
John  had  known  each  other  from  childhood,  and 
although  there  were  years  intervening  when  each 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  existence  of  the 
other,  save  in  the  general  way  in  which  one  re- 
members a  playmate  of  childhood,  fate  had  again 
brought  them  together  in  formal  presentation. 
The  wooing  had  been  short  and  direct,  and  now 
the  wedding  which  was  among  the  first  of  the  early 
morning  weddings,  held  at  sunrise,  just  as  the 
sun  begins  to  polish  the  visible  world  with  a 
gloss  of  gold  and  ivory,  when  the  birds  begin  their 
daily  carols,  and  everything  is  fresh  and  green  and 
glad.  Not  for  one  moment  during  the  hours  that 
followed  the  ceremony,  the  wedding  breakfast 
at  high  noon,  the  informal  reception  during  the 
afternoon,  and  the  formal  reception  in  the  eve- 
ning, were  the  bride  and  groom  left  to  themselves. 
From  the  moment  when  the  benediction  was 
pronounced  by  the  Dean,  until  they  stood  side 
by  side  again  in  the  evening  to  receive  their 
guests,  they  had  exchanged  not  one  word  alone 
together.  There  was  only  now  and  then  a  silent 
handclasp  or  a  whispered  word  of  tenderness 
between  them. 

Then  just  at  midnight  when  the  spirit  of  gayety 
was  at  its  height,  Lord  John's  valet  thrust  him- 
self through  the  throng,  and  whispered  something 


THE  COINCIDENT  3 

in  the  ear  of  his  master.  Those  who  witnessed 
the  act  saw  a  look  of  intense  annoyance  on  the 
face  of  the  earl  as  he  murmured  a  sentence  in 
reply.  The  valet  withdrew,  and  a  moment  later 
the  earl  followed  him,  pausing  beside  the  bride 
as  he  passed  her. 

"  I  must  leave  you  for  a  few  moments,  Mercy," 
he  said.  "  Robert  has  brought  me  a  message 
and  I  must  attend  to  it."  Then  he  smiled  and 
left  her,  touching  her  white  arm  with  the  tips 
of  his  fingers  as  he  withdrew. 

It  was  that  moment  when  the  mystery  was 
born;  that  instant  of  leaving  his  bride  and  the 
roomful  of  guests  had  a  far  reaching  effect,  and 
destiny  was  at  that  moment  shaking  the  dice- 
box  for  a  strange  career  in  which  the  going  out 
of  Lord  John  Hertford,  a  doubly  belted  earl,  on 
an  apparently  trivial  errand,  was  the  all  important 
factor. 

When  a  half  hour  had  passed  and  he  had  not 
returned,  the  young  countess  became  impatient, 
and  others  in  the  room  wishing  to  depart,  asked 
for  the  earl.  Within  an  hour  a  servant  was 
sent  to  find  Lord  John,  but  returned  presently 
unsuccessful.  Then  the  bride  directed  that  her 
husband's  valet  be  sent  to  her  at  once.  Old 
Robert  was  almost  as  well  known  to  the 
countess  as  to  the  earl,  for  he  had  been  Lord 


4        A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

John's  attendant,  and  was  a  man  grown,  in  that 
long  ago  when  the  two  were  playmates.  When 
he  appeared,  he  did  not  wait  for  the  question 
he  knew  she  would  ask,  but  anticipated  it. 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  lady,"  he  said.  "  I  gave 
him  his  hat  and  he  went  out,  saying  that  he 
would  return  immediately.  I  have  waited  at 
the  door  for  him  ever  since,  and  until  your 
ladyship  sent  for  me.  I  know  that  he  has  not 
returned." 

"  Why  did  he  go  out,  Robert?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  lady." 

"  You  brought  him  the  message  which  called 
him  away?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  What  was  it?  " 

"  The  message  that  was  given  to  me  was  this: 
'  Say  that  his  friend  Tom  must  see  him  at  once. 
He  will  understand.'  I  told  him,  and  he  did  seem 
to  understand.  I  gave  him  his  hat  and  he  left 
the  house.  By  my  love  for  him,  Miss  Mercy !  — 
excuse  me,  my  lady,  — that  is  all  I  know." 

Mercy  was  very  white  by  now,  for  she  was 
frightened.  There  was  in  her  mind  an  inex- 
plicable presentiment  that  he  would  not  return, 
—  that  a  great  danger  menaced  him;  but  she 
controlled  herself  admirably. 

"  Robert,"  she  said,  presently,  "  repeat  again 


THE  COINCIDENT  5 

the  message  that  was  given  to  you.  Repeat  it 
word  for  word,  just  as  it  was  delivered  to  you, 
for  him." 

"  I  have  already  done  so,  my  lady.  The 
message  was,  '  Say  that  his  friend  Tom  must 
see  him  at  once;  he  will  understand.'  That  is 
the  exact  message,  word  for  word,  just  as  it  was 
given  to  me  —  just  as  I  repeated  it  to  him." 

"  Did  he  seem  to  understand  to  whom  the 
message  referred? " 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Do  you  know  to  whom  it  referred?  " 

"  No,  my  lady.  Mr.  Jack  looked  annoyed  when 
I  mentioned  the  name.  He  made  no  comment." 

"  Was  it  a  man  who  gave  you  the  message?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady,  a  man  and  a  stranger  —  not  a 
gentleman.  I  think  he  was  simply  the  bearer  of 
the  message." 

44  Robert,  you  have  known  Lord  John  since  he 
was  born.  What  friend  has  he,  who  bears  that 
name,  who  might  have  called  him  out  in  that 
manner,  at  this  time,  from  such  a  gathering  as 
this  one?  " 

44  My  lady,  I  know  of  only  two  friends  by  that 
name,  and  they  are  both  here  in  the  house  at 
this  moment.  I  have  no  idea  who  it  could  have 
been." 

Mercy  was  silent  several  moments.     She  was 


6         A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

endeavouring  to  control  herself,  and  at  last  by 
a  supreme  effort  she  succeeded.  When  she  did 
speak  again,  her  voice  was  low  and  firm. 

"  Robert,"  she  said,  "  the  guests  must  not 
know.  Nobody  must  know.  I  will  leave  the 
room,  and  you  must  announce  that  the  earl  is 
suddenly  ill ;  that  I  have  gone  to  him.  Get  them 
away,  out  of  the  house,  all  of  them,  everybody; 
then  when  they  are  gone,  every  one,  come  to  me. 
Oh,  Robert!  What  could  have  happened  to  him?  " 

"  Alas,  Miss  Mercy  —  my  lady  —  I  do  not 
know.  Nothing,  I  think,  only  he  has  somehow 
been  detained.  He  may  come  at  any  moment." 

But  he  did  not  come.  The  guests,  loud  in 
their  expressions  of  sympathy,  departed.  The 
lights  were  extinguished  and  the  great  house 
was  shrouded  in  darkness,  save  for  the  glow  from 
two  windows  in  the  apartments  that  had  been 
refitted  for  the  new  countess.  There,  behind 
closely  drawn  shades,  still  arrayed  in  her  recep- 
tion costume  of  satin  and  pearls,  the  young 
countess  was  restlessly  pacing  the  room,  while 
before  her,  with  downcast  eyes  and  his  hands 
behind  his  back,  stood  faithful  old  Robert.  Three 
hours  had  passed  since  Lord  John  left  the  par- 
lours, and  Robert  had  become  dumb  for  lack  of 
further  argument  to  appease  the  anxiety  of  his 
mistress.  His  concern  was  as  great  as  hers; 


THE  COINCIDENT  7 

his  ignorance  as  profound.  Mercy  had  sent  her 
maid  to  another  part  of  the  house;  now  she  told 
Robert  to  recall  her. 

"  The  servants  must  not  know  that  he  is  gone, 
Robert,"  she  said  wistfully.  "  He  will  surely 
return  before  long,  and  you  must  wait  up  for 
him.  You  will  not  desert  your  post?  " 

"  No,  my  lady,  no.    I  will  wait." 

"  And  the  servants?  " 

"  Take  no  heed  of  them,  Miss  Mercy.  Leave 
it  all  to  me;  and  if  I  may  venture  one  word  of 
advice  —  " 

"  Yes,  Robert;  what  is  it?  " 

"  Let  your  maid  put  you  to  bed,  and  send  her 
away  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  I  will  listen 
for  your  bell  while  I  watch  for  Mr.  Jack  —  for 
my  lord.  You  see  I  used  to  call  him  Jack  when 
he  was  a  boy,  and  he  likes  to  have  me  do  so  still, 
when  we  are  alone." 

"  He  loved  you,  Robert." 

"  He  loved  me,  and  he  loves  me  now,  my  lady. 
He  may  be  coming  in  at  any  moment,  and  I 
must  be  at  the  door." 

The  earl  did  not  return.  The  night  wore  away 
and  the  following  day  dragged  itself  into  the 
past ;  still  he  did  not  come.  After  that  there  were 
weary  days  and  nights,  and  then  there  were 
weary  weeks;  but  there  was  never  a  word  or  a 


8        A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

sign  of  Lord  John  —  never  a  trace  of  him  after 
he  passed  through  the  door  on  his  wedding  night. 

The  great  house  was  closed  and  the  servants 
were  dismissed.  Robert  alone  remained  in  charge 
of  the  mansion,  and  Robert  alone  knew  that  its 
mistress,  the  beautiful  young  countess,  dwelt 
there  in  solitude  while  the  world  —  their  world  — 
believed  that  she  and  the  earl  were  travelling 
abroad;  and  that  same  world  had  so  many  other 
things  to  engage  its  attention,  that  it  soon  made 
up  its  mind  to  forget  them  until  they  returned. 

Robert  —  dear  old  Robert  —  was  maid,  cook, 
everything,  even  father  to  Mercy  through  that 
awful  time.  When  he  was  not  attending  to  her 
wants  he  was  wandering  the  streets  in  search  of  his 
master.  He  was  tireless,  almost  sleepless,  pos- 
sessed of  one  idea  —  that  he  could,  and  one  day 
would,  find  Lord  John. 

Mercy  never  left  her  rooms.  Her  tearless  eyes 
never  looked  from  the  windows  save  at  night 
when  the  room  was  dark,  and  her  white,  set  face 
could  not  be  seen  from  without.  But  she  waited 
and  hoped;  and  as  time  went  on,  waited  almost 
without  hope. 

Once  and  only  once,  Robert  suggested  Scot- 
land Yard  and  the  police. 

"  No,"  she  replied;  "  we  will  wait.  If  he  lives 
he  will  return.  If  he  is  dead  there  is  no  need  to 


THE  COINCIDENT  9 

search.  In  either  case  we  must  be  silent.  The 
world  shall  not  know  when  or  how  he  went  away, 
nor  when  or  how  he  returns.  If  he  is  found, 
you,  Robert,  will  find  him,  or  he  will  return  to 
me  here." 

Thus  the  weeks  lengthened  into  months,  until 
they  were  near  the  end  of  the  twelfth  since  his 
disappearance;  until  time  lacked  only  a  few 
days,  to  arrive  at  the  first  anniversary  of  the 
wedding.  And  still  the  world  in  which  Lord 
John  had  lived  and  moved,  believed  that  he  was 
travelling  abroad  with  his  wife;  and  still  Robert 
and  the  countess  dwelt  on  alone,  in  hiding,  in 
secrecy,  and  in  despair. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   INCIDENT 

THE  date  was  the  same  as  that  of  the  wedding 
at  the  Church  of  the  Annunciation  in  London. 
The  scene  was  altogether  different,  for  it  was  the 
interior  of  a  bank  in  the  city  of  New  York  at  a 
time  when  all  banks  are  supposed  to  be  deserted 
—  the  so  called  small  hours  of  the  morning  when 
even  the  bustle  of  the  metropolis  seems  to  hesi- 
tate as  if  waiting  for  the  dawn  of  a  new  day. 
Outside  the  bank  the  streets  were  as  light  as  they 
always  are  in  the  business  portions  of  a  great 
city,  where  the  frequent  points  of  illumination 
dispel  the  gloom,  however  dense  it  may  be. 
Humanity  strode  past  in  either  direction  just 
as  it  always  does  wherever  it  is  hived  within  the 
confines  of  a  metropolitan  centre.  It  never 
sleeps;  always  moving,  thinning  out  during  the 
middle  watches  of  the  night,  thickening  up  again 
as  the  hours  tend  toward  the  dawn.  But  it  is 
a  heedless  humanity  and  it  rarely  looks  to  the 
right  or  to  the  left.  It  did  not  look  toward  the 

10 


THE  INCIDENT  11 

bank  then,  or  if  it  did,  it  paid  no  heed,  for  the 
man  who  entered  the  side  door  with  a  key  that 
fitted  the  lock  paused  after  he  had  entered  and 
stood  for  a  full  minute  before  a  window  where 
all  who  passed  that  way  might  have  seen 
him. 

The  man  was  John  Ashton.  Perhaps  no  one 
would  have  thought  to  question  his  right  to  be 
there;  many  might  have  regarded  his  presence 
there  at  that  hour  as  unnecessary  or  strange, 
but  his  right  was  unquestionable  since  he  pos- 
sessed a  key  and  was  cashier  of  the  institution. 
And  the  bank  itself  was  a  private  one,  the  ac- 
knowledged property  of  the  great  Henry  Hoi- 
lister,  capitalist,  financier,  juggler  of  millions,  dic- 
tator of  many  national  destinies.  Ashton  passed 
into  the  counting-room,  where  he  switched  on 
more  lights,  seated  himself  in  the  president's 
chair,  and  with  his  hands  thrust  into  his  pockets 
he  remained  for  a  long  time  as  motionless  as  a 
dead  man.  A  physiognomist  could  have  divined 
nothing  from  his  stony  countenance.  All  that 
any  one  could  have  observed  was  that  the  face 
was  handsome  and  noble,  delicate  and  patrician, 
and  that  his  eyes,  when  he  raised  them,  were 
clear  and  steadfast  though  troubled.  Presently 
he  shivered  as  he  might  have  done  had  a 
cold  draught  of  air  blown  upon  him.  Then  he 


12      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

rose  from  the  chair  and  paced  slowly  to  and  fro 
with  bowed  head,  and  with  his  hands  clasped 
behind  his  back.  Often  he  unclasped  them  and 
clenched  his  fists  as  if  he  would  master  the  prob- 
lem that  bothered  him,  master  it  by  sheer  force 
of  will  and  brain.  But  his  hands  always  returned 
to  their  former  position  behind  his  back,  and  he 
resumed  the  meditative  pacing. 

John  Ashton  had  reached  the  crisis  of  his  life. 
The  history  of  that  life  can  be  told  in  a  paragraph. 
It  had  been  simple,  straightforward,  upright  and 
just.  Henry  Hollister,  whom  he  knew  as  his 
uncle,  had  been  a  father  to  him,  had  reared  him 
as  a  son,  and  from  a  time  that  antedated  Ashton's 
memory.  He  had  passed  through  the  phases  of 
school  and  college  life,  and  had  filled  the  lesser 
posts  of  clerkship  in  the  Hollister  bank  until  now 
he  was  cashier  of  that  institution,  and  was 
destined  in  time  to  become  its  president  and  to 
inherit  the  millions  that  Henry  Hollister  had 
amassed.  He  could  not  remember  the  time  when 
he  and  Hope  Hollister  had  not  been  promised 
to  each  other  when  they  should  grow  up.  It 
began  in  their  play  when  Hope's  dolls  represented 
their  family;  it  continued  when  they  trudged  to 
school  together,  and  as  they  approached  maturity 
the  roots  of  their  affection  took  a  firmer,  deeper 
hold;  and  now  the  wedding  was  fixed.  They 


THE  INCIDENT  13 

were  to  be  married  in  the  autumn  on  Hope's 
twenty-first  birthday,  for  that  it  should  not  be 
sooner  was  a  matter  upon  which  the  banker  had 
been  insistent.  There  had  never  been  a  cloud 
in  the  horizon  of  John  Ashton's  life  until  now. 
But  now  —  he  shivered  as  he  thought  of  it  —  a 
cloud  that  was  huge  and  black  and  overwhelm- 
ing had  fallen  upon  him  from  the  clearest  skies. 
A  moment  of  purest  folly  had  created  that  cloud 
which  now  extended  seemingly  from  horizon  to 
zenith  in  his  life.  A  moment  of  folly ;  a  moment 
when  he  had  forgotten  Hope  and  all  that  she 
meant  to  him.  There  had  been  other  follies  after 
that  —  inexcusable  ones,  and  then  the  inevitable 
reaping  of  the  whirlwind  in  which  jealousy  had 
played  its  part.  The  woman  scorned  had  become 
the  proverbial  fury;  she  had  gone  to  Hope; 
she  had  somehow  made  Hope  listen,  and  —  now 
he  was  here  at  the  bank  awaiting  Hope  by  Hope's 
request;  nay,  her  command. 

It  was  a  strange  letter  that  Hope  had  written 
him,  making  that  appointment  at  the  counting- 
room  of  the  bank  after  she  should  leave  the 
reception  at  Madame  Savage's.  He  had  not 
tried  to  conjecture  what  that  other  woman  had 
said.  He  knew  something  of  the  evil  possibilities 
of  her  character.  Knowing  as  she  must  know, 
that  she  had  lost  him,  she  would  not  hesitate  as 


14      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

to  the  means  of  destroying  him,  even  if  the  price 
of  it  were  her  own  moral  doom  and  social  downfall. 
He  knew  her,  alas,  too  well!  Too  well,  indeed! 
Could  Hope  be  made  to  believe  that  any  woman, 
for  any  cause,  would  ever  falsely  charge  herself 
so  vilely?  He  knew  Hope  Hollister,  too.  Her 
pure  and  lofty  spirit  would  have  forgiven  the 
sin  itself  rather  than  the  deception  involved  in  it. 
There  would  be  no  condoning  that.  He  knew 
that  in  all  the  world  there  is  nothing  so  austere, 
so  relentlessly  cruel  as  the  judgment  of  the  young 
woman  who  is  without  guile.  Ashton  knew  what 
to  expect  from  Hope  Hollister,  and  yet  —  and 
yet  he  wondered  if  she  might  not  relent  and  for- 
give. 

He  had  read  the  letter  but  once,  but  even  with 
that  one  reading  it  was  not  difficult  for  him  to 
picture  the  scene  that  had  occurred.  He  knew 
himself  guiltily  wrong  in  having  idled  away  an 
hour  here  and  there  in  permitting  another  woman 
to  coquette  with  him;  but  he  had  intended  no 
wrong,  committed  no  actual  misdeed.  Yet, 
Hope's  letter!  It  was  terrible!  He  felt  that  in 
it  he  was  charged  with  the  worst  that  could  have 
happened  —  knew  from  those  pages  that  he  had 
been  so  charged  by  the  woman  herself.  It  seemed 
incredible,  and  yet  —  then  he  read  the  letter 
again  while  he  waited. 


THE  INCIDENT  15 

"  There  is  a  condition  of  mind,  John,  so  con- 
clusive in  its  reasoning  that  it  dwarfs  all  other 
considerations,  even  those  of  the  heart.  That 
condition  is  mine  at  the  present  moment.  I 
scarcely  know  what  to  say  to  you  now  that  I 
have  begun  to  write,  although  I  know  all  the 
time  what  it  is  that  must  be  said.  It  is  certain 
that  I  can  never  be  your  wife,  certain  now  that 
I  never  should  be,  certain  that  it  would  be  an 
affront  to  Heaven  and  before  God  if  after  what  has 
happened,  after  what  has  been  revealed  to  me  of 
your  nature,  after  this  knowledge  of  your  in- 
justice has  been  thrust  upon  me,  I  should  ever 
consent  to  become  one  with  you  in  the  holy  bonds 
of  wedlock.  Shame  on  you,  John,  for  what  you 
have  done  to  me.  Shame  be  upon  you  for  ever  for 
the  betrayal  of  my  love,  my  confidence,  my 
trust  in  you.  Shame,  shame,  shame! 

"  I  feel  at  this  moment  as  if  I  should  never 
hold  my  head  up  among  people  again ;  for  having 
trusted  you,  and  had  my  trust  betrayed,  leaves 
me  as  a  wreck  upon  the  sands  of  the  sea,  without 
hope  of  salvage,  without  redress  against  the 
storms  that  have  buffeted  me  —  ah,  God!  with- 
out anything  left  save  my  own  shame  that  I  have 
loved  you  all  too  well. 

"  How  could  you  do  it,  John?  How  could  you 
betray  the  trust  of  a  pure  young  woman?  How 


16      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

could  you  pretend  love  for  her  when  your  only 
passion  was  lust?  Did  you  not  realize  when  you 
committed  the  deed,  to  what  a  dreadful  pass  it 
must  ultimately  condemn  me?  Could  you  not 
foresee  what  the  result  of  your  perfidy  must  be? 
Was  there  no  mentor  near  your  heart  to  warn 
you  that  you  must  for  ever  lose  me,  after  that 
happened?  Or  did  you  suppose  that  we  could 
go  on  just  the  same  afterward?  Did  you  not 
realize  that  you  were  making  me  your  victim? 
That  you  were  condemning  me  to  eternal  sorrow? 
For  the  shame  must  be  mine,  John,  almost  as 
much  as  your  own,  although  I  am  an  entirely 
innocent  party  in  the  affair,  and  knew  nothing 
whatever  about  it  until  it  was  over  and 
past. 

"  And  all  the  while  you  were  telling  me  that 
you  loved  me;  all  the  while  you  were  breathing 
tenderness  into  my  ears;  all  the  while  that  you 
were  perfecting  your  plans  and  laying  your 
snares  for  the  ruin  of  a  soul,  you  were  holding  my 
hands,  kissing  my  lips  —  pretending  to  love  me. 
To  love  me,  forsooth!  It  is  only  yourself  that 
you  have  loved  from  the  first,  and  were  there 
even  no  actual  sin  behind  your  act,  if  only  the 
wish  to  commit  it  were  there,  I  should  still  re- 
pudiate you  wholly,  I  should  still  cast  you  off 
as  I  do  now,  I  should  still  look  upon  you  with 


THE  INCIDENT  17 

horror,  think  of  you  with  loathing,  recall  you  to 
memory  with  disgust. 

"  And  yet,  God  help  me,  I  love  you,  love  you! 

"  But  I  must  cast  you  off.  I  cannot  have  you 
touch  me  again.  I  cannot  live  and  feel  your 
presence  near  me.  After  what  you  have  done  — 
after  the  sin  you  have  committed  against  me, 
without  considering  what  you  have  done  to 
others  —  our  paths  must  lie  as  wide  apart  as  the 
poles. 

"I  go  to  Madame  Savage's  to-night  with  my 
father.  I  know  that  you  have  been  bidden,  also, 
but  I  have  heard  you  say  that  you  do  not  intend 
to  go,  so  I  shall  leave  this  letter  on  the  table  in 
your  room  for  you  to  find.  You  will  understand 
it  only  too  well  when  you  read  the  words  which 
in  full  bitterness  of  heart  I  have  written  here. 
It  is  not  possible  that  I  can  leave  Madam's  be- 
fore two;  possibly  it  will  be  even  later;  I  do  not 
know.  But  I  feel  that  I  must  have  one  last 
interview  with  you  before  I  retire  this  night. 
There  are  certain  things  which  you  must  promise 
me  to  do,  and  they  must  be  done  forthwith. 

"  So  go  to  the  bank  and  wait  in  the  counting- 
room  for  me  until  I  come.  If  you  are  there  by 
half-past  two  it  will  be  time  enough;  I  should 
arrive  soon  after  that.  I  ask  you  to  meet  me 
there  because  I  do  not  feel  that  I  could  hold 


18      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

this  necessary  interview  with  you  under  the  roof 
of   my  father's  house,  where  we  have  grown  up 
together  from  childhood.    I  could  not  discuss  this 
thing  with  you  there  —  I  will  not  discuss  any- 
thing with  you  there  ever  again.     If  you  sit  at 
the  table  in  my  father's  house  again,  I  will  not 
enter  the   dining-room;    if  you   remain   in   the 
house  another  night  after  this  one,  I  will  go  away 
and  remain  away  until  you  have  taken  your  de- 
parture from  it.    That  is  how  I  feel,  John;   that 
is  how  I  must  act  —  and  you  know  why,  because 
you  know  what  fault  you  have  committed.     So 
meet  me  there  at  the  bank  as  I  have  asked  you 
to  do;  meet  me  for  the  last  time,  for  hereafter  — 
But  I  will  leave  that  part  of  the  subject  until 
to-night.      Perhaps   it   would  have  been  better 
had  I  left  it  all  till  then.    When  I  began  to  write 
I  intended  merely  to  ask  you  to  meet  me  there, 
but  the  horror  that  lies  on  my  soul  because  of 
you  is  so  great  and  so  terrible    that  I  have  not 
been  able  to  withhold  these  words;    they  have 
written  themselves.     Ah,  the  anguish  of  it  all, 
John!    The  folly  of  it!    The  pity  of  it !" 

Ashton  realized  already  even  while  trying  to 
convince  himself  that  he  did  not,  that  Hope  would 
be  relentless,  that  she  would  listen  to  no  denial, 
that  she  had  already  decided  the  woman's  story 


THE   INCIDENT  19 

to  be  true,  and  that  nothing  he  could  say  could 
change  her.  But  he  could  not  see  into  his  own 
future.  He  could  not  know  that  this  very  cir- 
cumstance was  one  of  the  dice  of  Fate  that  had 
been  cast  against  his  present  career.  Born  to 
another  sphere  of  life,  Destiny  meant  that  he 
should  fill  it,  and  already,  more  than  three 
thousand  miles  away,  in  the  city  of  London, 
was  setting  out  the  mile  posts  of  his  future.  He 
was  still  striding  restlessly  up  and  down  the  room 
when  the  rattle  of  carriage  wheels  on  the  pave- 
ment arrested  his  attention,  and  he  paused  to 
listen  while  the  vehicle  was  whirled  around  the 
corner  and  drew  up  at  the  side  door  of  the  bank. 
Ashton  caught  his  breath  sharply  as  he  listened. 
Hope  Hollister,  the  one  woman  in  all  the  world 
to  him,  was  at  the  door;  in  another  moment  he 
would  admit  her,  and  presently  he  would  know 
whether  she  believed  him,  or  would  continue  to 
believe  the  story  of  the  other  woman.  He  ad- 
mitted her  before  she  could  press  the  electric 
button,  and  he  stood  aside  for  her  to  pass  along 
the  narrow,  tiled  corridor  to  the  counting-room. 
Then  he  followed  her. 

She  had  taken  her  stand  with  her  back  against 
the  end  of  the  heavy  oaken  directors'  table,  with 
her  hands  behind  her,  and  resting  upon  it.  Her 
face  was  pale  and  beautiful  and  infinitely  sad. 


20      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

Her  eyes  large  and  luminously  black  gazed  upon 
him  sorrowfully,  and  yet  with  unconcealed  love 
in  their  depths.  She  was  calm,  broodingly  calm, 
like  the  hush  that  precedes  the  hurricane,  he 
thought.  He  felt  that  the  very  placidity  of  their 
greeting  was  charged  with  ominous  import.  He 
halted  just  inside  the  door,  gazing  at  her  with 
his  soul  in  his  eyes.  She  was  the  woman  he  loved. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  never  realized  before 
how  beautiful  she  was,  how  superior  to  other 
women,  how  sweet  and  pure  and  good. 

"  Hope!  "  he  said  after  a  moment,  breathing 
her  name  as  if  it  were  a  prayer;  and  he  took  a 
step  nearer  to  her.  But  she  raised  one  hand 
quickly,  and  repelled  him,  and  then  permitted 
it  to  return  to  its  former  position  behind  her  as  if 
she  required  its  additional  support. 

"  I  wrote  you  the  note  asking  you  to  meet  me 
here  after  the  reception,  and  left  it  in  your  room 
at  home  where  you  would  find  it,"  she  began 
without  preface,  "  because  I  believed  it  to  be  the 
better  way.  Perhaps  my  logic  is  at  fault.  Doubt- 
less I  should  not  have  come  here  to  meet  you  at 
this  hour  of  the  night;  but  —  there  seemed  to 
me  to  be  no  other  adequate  way.  It  will  be  our 
last  interview,  John,  and  I  wished  it  to  be  entirely 
without  witnesses,  and  without  the  chance  of 
interruption." 


THE  INCIDENT  21 

"  Our  last  interview,  Hope?  Surely  you  cannot 
mean  that."  Ashton  caught  his  breath  sharply. 
His  fingers  clenched  into  the  palms  of  his  hands, 
but  he  stood  straight  and  still  before  her,  and 
only  an  added  paleness  evidenced  the  shock  her 
words  gave  him. 

"  Our  last  interview,"  she  repeated,  deadly 
calm.  "  Surely  you  must  have  known  that  I 
intended  it  so.  You  must  withdraw  yourself 
from  daily  association  with  me  on  one  pretext  or 
another.  I  leave  that  to  you.  But  we  must  not, 
we  cannot  live  longer  under  the  same  roof.  We 
have  grown  up  together  from  babyhood  as  a 
brother  and  sister  might  have  done.  For  a  little 
more  than  a  year  we  have  been  betrothed;  and 
I  have  loved  you,  John,  as  only  a  woman  of  my 
temperament  can  love.  I  love  you  now,  to  my 
infinite  shame!  God  help  me!  " 

"Hope!    Hope!    Oh,  my  love  — " 

"  Stop,  John.  Stand  where  you  are.  Do  not 
come  nearer  to  me.  You  have  wronged  me  be- 
yond the  hope  of  reparation;  wronged  me  and 
outraged  my  love  for  you  so  vilely  that  I  look 
upon  you  now  and  think  of  you  now  with  horror 
and  aversion.  Do  not  interrupt  me.  We  will 
not  discuss  the  whys  and  wherefores  of  this  un- 
fortunate scene.  The  time  for  that  is  past. 
You  have  sown  the  seed  and  you  shall  reap  the 


22      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

harvest  even  though  the  bitter  weeds  of  it,  and 
the  rowen,  shall  be  mine  also.  The  shame  of  it 
all  is  yours,  not  mine ;  but  the  bitterness  of  it,  the 
pity  of  it,  the  hopelessness  of  it,  is  mine  alone. 
You  will  go  out  into  the  world  seeking  new  scenes, 
new  faces,  new  affections  and  a  new  environment, 
and  presently  you  will  forget;  or  if  you  do  not 
quite  do  that,  your  memory  will  be  dulled  and 
blunted  into  semi-forgetfulness.  But  I?  I  must 
for  ever  remain  what  I  am  now  —  Hope  Hollister, 
with  the  shadow  of  lost  love,  lost  confidence, 
lost  soul,  almost,  over  my  life.  And  you  have 
done  this  by  a  thoughtless,  impetuous  act,  un- 
mindful of  my  confidence  in  you,  of  my  love  for 
you.  Shame  on  you,  John,  to  treat  me  so! 
Shame  on  you  to  have  brought  me  to  the  pass  of 
meeting  you  here  in  secret  in  the  counting-room 
of  my  father's  bank,  to  dismiss  you !  I  could  never 
be  your  wife  now,  John.  The  holiness  has  all 
gone  out  of  it.  You  have  left  no  uncut  leaves  in 
your  book  of  life.  I  should  look  upon  you  with 
horror  and  think  of  you  with  loathing  if  you  were 
my  husband,  after  what  has  occurred.  I  speak 
harshly,  I  know.  I  meant  to  do  so  in  order  that 
there  might  be  no  mistake,  no  argument,  no 
repetition  of  this  interview,  or  any  part  of  it." 

"But  Hope  —  sweetheart  —  may  I  not  speak 
in  my  own  defence?    May  there  not  be  some  way 


THE  INCIDENT  23 

to  convince  you  —  "    He  stopped,  for  again  she 
held  up  her  right  hand,  repellently. 

"  No,"  she  said.    "  You  may  not  speak  in  your 
own  defence.    It  is  too  late  for  that  now." 

"  I  have  sinned,  Hope;  I  know  it;  I  admit  it; 
but  not  with  the  motive,  nor  after  the  manner 
that  you  now  believe.  I  have  wronged  you,  I 
have  tried  your  confidence  in  me  to  the  breaking 
point,  but  all  the  time  I  have  loved  you  —  only 
you.  You  see  things  much  blacker  than  they  are. 
Forgive  me,  Hope!  Let  us  forget  all  this  and  be 
happy  again.  Be  my  wife  as  you  have  promised 
to  be.  As  such  you  will  not  only  forgive,  but 
you  will  forget."  He  spoke  rapidly,  impetuously, 
stepping  nearer  to  her  and  stretching  out  his 
arms  toward  her  in  supplication. 

But  she  did  not  move.  That  expression  of 
stony  calm  did  not  leave  her  face. 

"  That  is  all,"  she  said,  as  if  she  had  not  heard 
him.  "  If  you  speak  truthfully,  and  there  is  still 
a  portion  of  love,  a  moiety  of  respect  in  your  heart 
for  me,  you  will  make  arrangements  for  changing 
your  place  of  abode  at  once.  Make  what  pre- 
text you  will.  Tell  my  father  that  I  have  jilted 
you,  that  I  have  sent  you  away.  It  is  the  truth 
and  I  will  uphold  you  in  it.  But,  John  Ashton  " 
—  her  eyes  blazed  almost  fiercely  into  his  for 
that  instant  —  "I  would  not  be  your  wife  now,  I 


24      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

would  not  kneel  before  God's  altar  with  you  now, 
after  what  has  happened,  if  all  the  world  were  to 
plead  with  me  in  your  behalf.  That  is  all.  You 
may  let  me  out  of  the  bank,  if  you  please." 

She  started  to  pass  him,  going  toward  the  door, 
and  in  that  instant  when  he  realized  that  he  was 
losing  her  for  ever,  when  he  understood  that  if 
she  left  him  now  it  would  be  never  to  return,  he 
lost  control  of  himself.  He  threw  out  his  arms 
and  seized  upon  her;  he  hugged  her  lithe  body 
against  him,  showering  kisses  upon  her  hair,  for 
he  could  not  reach  her  face,  and  all  the  while 
he  talked  rapidly,  incoherently,  with  passionate 
despair. 

"  You  shall  not  go,  Hope!  You  must  not  leave 
me  so.  I  cannot  bear  it!  It  will  kill  me!  It  is 
killing  you!  Forgive!  Forget!  Rise  above  it 
all!  I  love  you!  love  you!  "  And  throughout 
it  all  she  struggled  desperately. 

But  suddenly  he  released  her.  He  fell  back 
away  from  her  gasping.  He  had  chanced  to 
raise  his  eyes  and  they  had  fallen  upon  a  figure 
in  the  doorway  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  room; 
the  doorway  that  communicated  between  the 
counting-room  and  the  private  office  of  Henry 
Hollister. 

Hope  saw  his  sudden  alarm.  Her  gaze  fol- 
lowed his  and  discovered  the  cause  of  it,  but  in- 


THE   INCIDENT  25 

stead  of  being  frightened  by  the  unexpected  ap- 
pearance of  her  father  there,  her  eyes  flamed  with 
anger  that  the  interview  had  been  overheard  — 
that  he  should  have  dared  to  listen. 

The  old  man  came  forward  slowly.  His  hand- 
some, smoothly  shaven  face  was  as  hard  as 
granite,  his  eyes  as  cold  and  relentless  as  polished 
marble.  A  few  feet  away  from  them  he  paused; 
and  when  he  spoke  it  was  with  the  same  voice 
he  would  have  used  in  calling  a  meeting  of  his 
directors  to  order. 

"  I  will  conduct  you  to  the  carriage,  Hope," 
he  said.  "  John  Ashton,  you  will  remain  where 
you  are  till  I  return." 

It  was  strange  that  it  did  not  occur  to  John 
Ashton  then  that  Hope's  father  might  easily 
misconstrue  the  significance  of  the  interview  he 
had  overheard;  that  interview  which  he  had 
evidently  planned  to  overhear.  The  "  other 
woman  "  had  not  once  been  mentioned  or  re- 
ferred to.  There  had  been  no  mention  of  a  third 
party  to  the  wrong  with  which  she  had  charged 
him.  Throughout  it  all  she  had  spoken  and 
acted  as  if  the  sin  were  directly  against  her.  She 
had  taken  the  stand  of  a  pure  woman  who  is 
utterly  without  guile,  and  who,  since  time  im- 
memorial, has  cast  away  the  loaf  because  a  bit  of 
mould  has  specked  the  crust.  Her  pride  of  purity 


26      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

and  of  self  esteem  had  been  outraged  because 
for  a  moment  her  lover  had  wandered,  and  she 
had  somehow  been  led  to  believe  the  worst  of  his 
digression.  Had  Henry  Hollister  kept  his  hands 
off,  a  month,  or  six  months,  or  a  year  would  have 
discovered  his  daughter  stretching  out  her  arms 
again  toward  John  Ashton  with  all  her  confidence 
in  him  restored,  and  all  her  love  magnified  by  the 
temporary  separation.  Hope  was  unreasonable 
in  her  conclusions,  relentless  in  her  decisions, 
cruel  in  her  repudiation  of  the  man  she  loved, 
pitiless  in  her  condemnation.  With  the  un- 
reasoning selfishness  of  a  young  woman  who  loves 
for  the  first  time,  and  who  has  idealized  her 
lover,  she  regarded  what  she  believed  John 
Ashton  had  done,  wholly  and  solely  as  a  sin 
against  herself.  But  Ashton  did  not  consider  this, 
he  did  not  think  of  it  at  all  while  he  awaited 
the  return  of  Henry  Hollister. 

He  came,  presently.  He  had  taken  his  daughter 
to  the  carriage,  in  utter  silence ;  in  silence  he  had 
turned  away,  uttering  but  one  word  to  his  coach- 
man, and  that  was,  "  Home!  "  Then  he  strode 
back  into  the  bank,  closing  the  two  doors  carefully 
after  him  as  he  entered. 

Ashton  had  moved  around  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  big  directors'  table,  so  that  when  the 
two  men  faced  each  other,  it  was  across  it;  and 


THE  INCIDENT  27 

for  a  moment  which  seemed  endless  to  both, 
they  looked  clearly  and  squarely  into  each 
other's  eyes.  It  was  Ashton  who  broke  the 
silence. 

"  I  had  no  idea  that  you  were  in  the  private 
office,  sir,"  he  said,  lamely. 

"  No,"  replied  the  banker.  "  I  did  not  intend 
that  you  should  have  such  an  idea."  And  then 
his  wrath  burst  forth  in  a  blaze  of  insensate 
fury,  for  Henry  Hollister  was  a  strong  old  man 
and  a  passionate  one.  His  black  eyes  snapped 
fire.  His  leonine,  Webster -like  features  seemed 
sharper  and  cleaner  cut  than  ever.  His  olive 
complexion  became  ashen  in  hue.  "  Oh,  you 
hound!  "  He  seemed  to  shout  the  words,  but 
always  without  a  raise  in  his  voice.  "  You 
scoundrel!  You  ingrate!  You  viper  that  stings 
the  hand  that  has  nurtured  and  caressed  you! 
What  have  you  done?  What  have  you  done  to 
me  —  and  to  her?  " 

John  Ashton  was  never  more  astounded  in  his 
life  than  then.  Was  his  uncle  mad,  or  what  could 
have  induced  him  to  assume  that  attitude?  Had 
he,  after  all,  listened  to  the  words  of  that  inter- 
view? If  so,  why  did  he  not  understand  that  it 
was  Hope  who  had  repudiated  her  lover,  and 
not  Ashton  who  had  repelled  her?  He  was 
bewildered. 


28      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Uncle  Henry  — "  he  began,  but  the  old 
man  interrupted  him  fiercely. 

"  Don't  '  Uncle  Henry  '  me,  you  cur!  "  he 
cried.  "  I  am  not  your  uncle,  thank  God!  You 
are  no  relation  to  me  or  mine.  You  are  a  found- 
ling whom  I  discovered  in  a  basket  at  my  front 
door  when  you  were  a  month  old,  or  less.  You 
are  the  bastard  offspring  of  some  illicit  love  upon 
whom  I  took  pity,  whom  I  received  into  my  own 
house,  whom  I  raised  to  manhood  as  one  of  my 
own  kin,  whom  I  have  nurtured  and  loved  as  a 
son,  to  whom  I  would  have  given  my  daughter 
for  wife,  to  whom  I  intended  to  leave  my  fortune ! 
And  now,  now  — ?  Oh,  my  God!  " 

He  turned  his  back  to  Ashton  for  a  moment, 
and  great  sobs  shook  him ;  but  he  controlled  them, 
and,  wheeling,  returned  to  the  attack. 

Utter  amazement  was  the  only  expression  in 
John  Ashton's  face  and  eyes.  Before  this  last 
statement  of  Henry  Hollister's,  he  stood  com- 
pletely appalled.  In  the  face  of  the  assertion 
that  he  was  a  nobody,  even  the  agony  of  Hope's 
desertion  was  momentarily  belittled,  half  for- 
gotten. He  was  still  ignorant  of  the  cause  of  the 
old  banker's  tirade  against  him,  but  even  that 
was  unimportant  in  view  of  the  revelation  that 
had  just  been  made  to  him.  Not  once  did  it 
occur  to  him  that  the  old  man  had  placed  a 


THE   INCIDENT  29 

horrible  misconstruction  upon  the  conversation 
he  had  overheard;  that  the  banker  had  already 
convicted  him  of  the  worst  of  all  crimes  against 
his  house  and  the  daughter  of  that  house  — 
betrayal.  The  horror  of  it  was  yet  to  come. 

"  And  now,  what  have  you  done  to  me?  " 
cried  the  old  man,  leaning  his  weight  upon  the 
table  in  front  of  him  and  bending  far  across 
it  so  that  he  fairly  snarled  into  the  face  of  the 
younger  man.  "  How  have  you  repaid  me  for 
the  care  I  have  given  you,  for  the  love  I  have 
bestowed  upon  you,  for  the  confidence  I  have 
reposed  in  you  ?  I  should  have  known,  thirty  years 
ago  when  I  took  you  from  my  doorstep,  that 
the  day  would  come  when  you  would  bite  the 
hand  that  fed  you,  dog  that  you  are!  I  should 
have  known  that  the  sin  of  your  unknown  father 
and  probably  disreputable  mother  had  poisoned 
your  blood  and  your  morals  like  a  scrofula.  And 
you  dare  to  stand  there  before  me,  looking  me  in 
the  face  as  if  you  were  as  innocent  of  wrong  as 
a  child  unborn!  " 

"Mr.  Hollister  "  —  Ashton  spoke  calmly  and 
gravely  —  "  upon  my  soul  I  do  not  in  the  least 
understand  why  you  should  suddenly  evince  such 
anger  toward  me.  I  am  conscious  of  no  wrong 
against  you,  sir.  Through  all  the  years  of  my 
life,  since  I  have  been  old  enough  to  understand, 


30      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

I  have  loved  you  as  a  father ;  and  now,  when  you 
tell  me  that  I  have  never  had  a  claim  upon  you, 
that  I  am  a  foundling,  a  nobody,  I  —  I  am  over- 
whelmed with  gratitude  for  what  you  have  done. 
But  I  think,  sir,  that  I  am  glad  you  have  told 
me  the  truth.  It  was  necessary  that  I  should 
leave  your  house  and  your  employ  at  once,  any- 
way. You  overheard  what  Hope  said  to  me  and 
you  know  why  that  is  so.  And  now,  this  —  " 

"  Damn  you! "  shouted  the  banker  with 
another  outburst  of  fury.  Then  he  turned  and 
darted  to  one  corner  of  the  room  where  a  small 
safe  stood  against  the  wall,  and  he  dropped  upon 
one  knee  in  front  of  it  and  spun  the  dial  fiercely, 
preparatory  to  opening  it.  Ashton  continued 
calmly  with  what  he  had  to  say. 

"  And  now  this  revelation  you  have  made  to 
me  concerning  my  birth  makes  it  all  so  much 
easier.  It  furnishes  an  excuse  for  my  going  away. 
If  I  am  a  nobody,  as  you  say,  I  am  not  fit  to  be- 
come Hope's  husband  under  any  circumstances. 
You  should  tell  her  what  you  have  revealed  to 
me.  She  should  know  the  truth.  Possibly  it 
will  lessen  the  pain  she  suffers  because  of  this 
parting,  for  I  am  convinced  that  Hope  loves  me. 
You  do  not  know  of  the  circumstances  that  led 
to  the  interview  you  overheard  to-night,  but  if 
you  will  permit  me,  I  will  explain  them  to  you.. 


THE   INCIDENT  31 

You  will  understand  then  that  there  is  perhaps 
some  excuse  — 

The  old  man  leaped  to  his  feet  and  whirled 
upon  Ashton  like  a  tiger,  his  features  convulsed 
with  rage,  his  eyes  blazing  with  fury.  In  his 
rignt  hand  he  held  a  small,  silver-mounted  re- 
volver that  he  had  taken  from  the  safe,  and  now 
he  crouched,  bending  forward  a  trifle,  and  with 
the  muzzle  pointing  remorselessly  at  Ashton's 
heart;  and  the  younger  man,  when  he  saw  the 
act  and  realized  what  it  meant,  stood  staring, 
like  one  who  is  hypnotized. 

"  I  am  going  to  kill  you,  John  Ashton,"  the 
banker  said,  coldly,  but  with  implacable  wrath 
in  his  voice.  "  I  am  going  to  kill  you,  John  Ashton, 
for  what  you  have  done  to  me  and  mine,"  he 
repeated.  "  John  Ashton!  Bah!  The  name  is 
not  even  yours.  I  gave  it  to  you  in  remembrance 
of  a  friend  I  had  in  college,  in  England.  I  named 
you  for  one  of  his  titles.  Thank  heaven  I  did 
not  give  you  his  family  name." 

"  Shoot,  sir,"  said  Ashton,  calmly,  and  smiling 
for  the  first  time.  "  It  will  be  a  very  small 
thing  to  give  up  my  life  to  you,  if  you  demand  it." 

The  old  man  lowered  the  muzzle  of  the  weapon, 
but  he  retained  his  grasp  upon  it. 

"  Perhaps,  after  all,"  he  muttered,  "  it  were 
better  to  let  you  live.  You  are  a  nobody;  a 


32       A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

thing  without  parentage,  without  a  name,  with- 
out existence;  a  blot,  an  abomination,  a  pesti- 
lence. Even  my  daughter  whom  you  have 
wronged  believes  that  you  will  best  get  your 
deserts  by  living,  otherwise  she  would  have 
killed  you  herself.  She  is  of  my  blood  and  bone." 

"  But  I  have  never  wronged  her,  sir;  at  least 
not  wilfully.  She  —  " 

i  "  You  lie!  I  read  the  letter  that  she  wrote  to 
you  asking  you  to  meet  her  here  after  the  re- 
ception. I  stood  in  that  room  and  listened  to 
every  word  that  passed  between  you.  I  wonder 
now  why  I  hesitate  to  shoot  you  down?  I  wonder! 
But  I  will  not;  no,  I  will  not.  You  shall  live, 
and  by  living  you  will  be  made  to  suffer  far  more 
than  the  mere  pain  of  death  could  inflict  upon 
you.  How  much  money  have  you  on  deposit 
in  this  bank,  that  is  your  own,  John  Ashton?  " 

"  None  at  all  save  what  I  have  earned  because 
of  your  bounty  and  goodness  to  me,  sir." 

"  Answer  me.  How  much  money  have  you 
on  deposit  in  this  bank?  " 

"  I  have  a  trifle  —  a  few  dollars  only,  over  ten 
thousand  dollars." 

"  And  I  have  that  much  here,  in  this  safe. 
It  was  paid  to  me  yesterday,  too  late  to  put  it  in 
the  vault."  He  turned  to  the  safe  again,  reached 
jnside  for  a  package  of  money  and  tossed  it  on 


THE   INCIDENT  33 

the  table.     "  There  are  ten  thousand  dollars  in 
that  package;  write  your  check  for  it." 

"  But,  sir,  I  —  " 

"  Write  your  check  for  it,  I  say.  Or  sign  your 
name  in  blank  and  I  will  fill  it  in,  later.  Write, 
or  by  heaven  I'll  kill  you!  "  He  raised  the  pistol 
again,  and  Ashton,  with  a  shrug,  scrawled  his 
name,  John  C.  Ashton,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
check.  "  Now  put  that  money  in  your  pocket, 
and  go,"  commanded  the  old  man. 

Ashton  dropped  the  package  of  money  into 
the  inside  pocket  of  his  coat,  which  he  then  but- 
toned around  him.  He  reached  for  his  hat  which 
was  on  the  table,  took  two  steps  toward  the  door, 
and  stopped.  Turning,  he  faced  again  the  still 
infuriated  banker. 

"  Mr.  Hollister,"  he  said,  and  he  drew  a  step 
nearer  to  the  man,  "  won't  you  tell  me  why  your 
love  and  affection  for  me  have  so  suddenly  turned 
to  anger  and  hate?  It  cannot  be  because  of  my 
obscure  birth,  for  you  have  known  that  always. 
Then  why  is  it?  It  breaks  my  heart  to  leave 
you  in  this  manner,  sir.  I  thought  there  could 
be  no  feeling  left  in  it  after  Hope's  repudiation  of 
me,  but  —  " 

"  Stop  where  you  are,  John  Ashton,  or  I  will 
yet  kill  you  before  you  leave  the  room.  Do  you 
think  that  even  yet  you  can  play  the  innocent, 


34      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

and  hoodwink  me?  Don't  you  know  that  if  the 
truth  were  known,  I  would  be  justified  in  killing 
you?  Don't  you  know  that  I  ought  to  shoot  you 
down  like  a  dog,  like  the  ingrate  that  you  are, 
for  what  you  have  done?  What  other  father  in 
all  the  broad  land,  who  had  listened  to  a  daughter's 
confession  as  I  have  heard  my  daughter  confess, 
to-night,  would  control  himself  as  I  have  done? 
And  you,  who  wronged  her,  you  who  have  out- 
raged her  purity  and  innocence  and  have  spoiled 
her  life  —  you,  who  —  " 

With  a  quick,  cat-like  spring  John  Ashton 
caught  the  banker  by  the  throat  and  choked 
back  further  utterance.  With  the  same  motion 
he  tore  the  revolver  from  the  old  man's  grasp  and 
sent  it  flying  across  the  room;  then  he  released 
the  hold  upon  his  throat  and  caught  him  by  the 
shoulders,  holding  him  there  at  arm's  length  and 
glaring  down  upon  him  with  more  consummate 
fierceness  than  Hollister,  even,  had  shown  that 
night.  He  understood  now.  He  comprehended 
at  last,  the  meaning  of  it  all. 

"  My  God! "  he  cried  out.  "  You  believe 
that?  You?  Her  father!  Why,  you  miserable 
old  reprobate!  You  accursed  man!  You  be- 
lieve that  of  your  daughter?  Of  Hope?  You? 
You?  You?  God!  I  wish  now  that  you  had  shot 
me  before  you  dared  to  utter  such  a  monstrous 


THE  INCIDENT  35 

thought.  Why,  if  you  weren't  her  father,  I'd 
—  I'd  break  your  damned  neck!  " 

Hollister  struggled  mightily,  and  he  was  a 
powerful  man  although  his  once  great  strength 
was  now  only  spasmodic;  but  he  succeeded  in 
tearing  himself  from  Ashton's  grasp  and  then 
with  a  desperate  effort  he  recovered  possession  of 
the  pistol.  But  the  younger  man  was  upon  him 
again,  and  once  more  he  succeeded  in  tearing 
it  away  from  him  so  that  it  fell  to  the  floor  the 
second  time. 

"  It's  true!  It's  true!  You  know  it's  true!  " 
the  old  man  cried  out  in  his  fury.  "  It  is  in  her 
letter  to  you,  almost  in  plain  words.  She  talked 
it  to  you  and  charged  you  with  it  and  you  did 
not  deny  it.  You  could  not.  You  confessed  it. 
Ah!  You  are  chok  —  " 

The  cry  ended  in  a  gurgle,  and  at  the  same  in- 
stant Ashton  threw  the  older  man  forcibly  from 
him.  He  staggered  backward  a  few  steps,  then 
fell ;  and  in  falling  his  head  struck  forcibly  against 
the  edge  of  the  open  door  of  the  small  safe,  and 
he  collapsed  upon  the  floor  in  a  huddled  heap. 

For  a  long  time  John  Ashton  stood  looking 
down  upon  him,  barely  conscious  of  what  he  had 
done.  But  bit  by  bit  the  fury  left  him ;  little  by 
little  his  sound  and  sober  judgment  returned. 
Gradually  his  face  cleared,  and  after  a  time  that 


36      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

might  have  been  a  few  minutes  or  a  year  so  far 
as  his  sensations  were  concerned,  he  lifted  the 
body  from  the  floor  and  bore  it  to  the  couch. 
Then  he  got  down  upon  his  knees  and  with  his 
ear  pressed  against  Henry  Hollister's  bosom  lis- 
tened for  the  beating  of  that  heart  he  had  loved 
so  long  and  well.  But  he  heard  nothing.  There 
was  not  a  sound  or  a  motion  that  he  could  detect. 

"  I  have  killed  him!  "  he  gasped,  rising  at 
last  to  his  feet.  "  I  have  killed  Hope's  father  — 
my  own  more  than  father ;  "  and  he  walked  back- 
ward step  by  step  until  he  brought  up  against 
the  end  of  the  table  to  which  he  clung  as  a  drown- 
ing man  might  have  seized  upon  a  floating  plank. 
It  seemed  hours  after  that,  while  he  remained 
gazing  with  fascinated  eyes  upon  the  thing  that 
was  stretched  upon  the  couch,  and  he  was  only 
brought  to  his  senses  by  the  rumbling  and  clatter 
of  a  heavy  wagon  that  passed  along  the  street. 

Ashton  sighed  heavily.  He  turned  to  the 
table,  seated  himself,  and  drawing  a  pad  of  paper 
toward  him,  he  wrote: 

"  We  quarrelled.  There  was  a  struggle.  I  threw 
him  from  me  and  he  fell,  striking  his  head  against 
the  safe.  I  had  no  thought  of  injuring  him,  but 
he  is  dead,  and  by  my  hand. 

"JOHN  C.  ASHTON." 


THE  INCIDENT  37 

After  an  interval  he  crossed  to  the  couch  again, 
bent  forward  and  pressed  his  lips  against  the 
banker's  forehead;  then,  calmly  he  snapped  off 
the  lights,  and  passed  out  upon  the  street. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   INTERVAL 

IT  is  impossible  to  describe  the  emotions  which 
surged  within  the  heart  and  brain  and  being  of 
John  Ashton  when  he  left  the  bank  and  walked 
through  the  almost  deserted  streets  of  the  city. 
The  thought  of  escape  had  not  yet  occurred  to 
him,  and  when  the  door  closed  behind  him,  he 
actually  paused  and  stood  there  upon  the  steps; 
paused  and  waited  without  any  object  in  view, 
for  he  was  objectless  at  that  moment.  There  was 
still  a  number  of  hours  that  must  intervene  be- 
tween that  time  and  the  period  when  the  city 
would  be  astir  with  the  busy  life  of  another  day. 
He  stroked  his  black,  pointed  beard,  thoughtfully, 
and  now  and  then  twisted  nervously  upon  the 
ends  of  his  moustache.  His  face  was  white  and 
set,  but  it  betrayed  nothing  of  the  tempest  that 
was  raging  within  him.  Presently  he  started 
away  aimlessly,  not  because  he  desired  to  go 
anywhere,  but  because  he  found  solace  in  the 
exertion  of  walking,  and  he  strode  on  and  on, 


THE  INTERVAL  39 

until  he  stood  at  the  entrance  to  the  park  just 
as  the  darkness  began  to  give  way  to  dawn  and 
the  birds  commenced  to  twitter  among  the  trees. 

He  turned  toward  the  west,  wandering  onward 
with  the  same  slow  tread,  vaguely  intending  to 
return  to  the  bank  when  it  should  be  time  for  the 
business  of  the  day  to  begin;  and  so,  when  he 
arrived  at  the  junction  of  Fifty-ninth  street  and 
Broadway,  he  turned  southward  again,  and  he 
pursued  that  course  until  he  arrived  at  Sixth 
Avenue,  which  he  followed  for  a  considerable 
distance. 

A  barber  was  opening  his  shop  —  a  basement 
shop,  near  Twenty-fifth  Street  —  as  he  passed, 
and  it  occurred  to  Ashton  that  a  shampoo  would 
do  much  to  dispel  the  confusion  in  his  brain. 
He  entered  and  seated  himself  in  the  chair,  and 
while  the  barber  was  placing  the  towel  around 
his  neck,  he  said  carelessly : 

"  You  may  shave  off  my  beard  and  moustache." 

He  could  not  have  told  why  he  gave  the  order. 
It  was  not  the  result  of  consideration.  He  had 
not  given  the  matter  a  thought  until  that  moment, 
and  even  when  he  uttered  the  request,  the  idea 
of  avoiding  recognition  by  that  means  had  not 
occurred  to  him;  but  when,  thirty  minutes  later, 
he  rose  from  the  chair  and  adjusted  his  collar, 
peering  at  himself  in  the  mirror  as  he  did  so,  he 


40      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

gave  a  start  of  surprise  at  the  change  that  had 
been  wrought  in  his  presence.  His  complexion, 
naturally  fair,  was  paler  than  ever  now.  Where 
the  beard  had  been  removed,  and  in  contrast 
with  the  wavy  blackness  of  his  hair,  it  was  almost 
white.  His  nose  seemed  larger  since  the  disap- 
pearance of  the  heavy  moustache,  but  it  was  as 
straight  and  clean  cut  as  though  it  were  carved 
out  by  the  chisel  of  a  master  sculptor.  His  eyes 
seemed  larger,  too,  as  though  the  deep  blue  in 
their  depths  were  enhanced  by  the  removal  of 
the  hair  from  his  face ;  and  the  pupils  of  unusual 
size  gave  one  the  idea  that  they  were  black. 
The  change,  also,  brought  out  the  lines  of  his 
mouth  in  all  their  firmness.  There  were  touches 
of  humour  around  the  corners,  but  for  the  present, 
sadness  and  severity  had  marked  them  for  their 
own. 

"  I  look  like  another  man,"  he  mused.  "  If  I 
had  cared  for  a  disguise,  I  could  not  have  thought 
of  a  better  one  than  this.  Perhaps  it  is  as  well 
that  I  am  shaven.  I  will  let  chance  decide  what 
I  am  to  do.  I  will  make  no  attempt  to  avoid 
recognition.  I  will  not  hide,  but  if  I  am  not 
arrested  before  night,  I  will  leave  New  York  and 
America  for  ever.  So  be  it.  Chance  shall  decide 
for  me." 

He  paid  his  bill  and  departed  without  a  word, 


THE   INTERVAL  41 

and  all  that  day  he  went  about  the  streets  of  the 
city,  as  unconcerned  as  though  he  were  engaged 
upon  his  every-day  affairs. 

The  condition  of  his  mind  was  remarkable. 
He  scarcely  thought  of  Henry  Hollister  at  all, 
and  if  he  did,  it  was  only  with  regret  that  the 
man  was,  as  he  supposed,  dead,  not  with  the 
feeling  of  guilt  upon  his  conscience  that  he  had 
killed  him.  That  would  come  later  when  he  had 
partially  recovered  from  the  anguish  of  his  life- 
long separation  from  Hope.  The  death  of  her 
father  had  severed  whatever  imaginary  link  there 
might  have  remained,  connecting  her  to  him. 

During  the  day,  he  met  and  passed  upon  the 
streets  many  acquaintances,  but  not  one  of 
them  recognized  him,  even  though  his  dress  was 
the  same  as  yesterday.  When,  years  afterwards, 
he  looked  back  upon  that  day,  he  realized  that 
he  must  have  been  in  a  semi -stupor,  irresponsible 
for  what  he  did,  and  for  what  he  failed  to  do. 
But  he  could  not  realize  it  at  the  time. 

Boys  attempted  to  sell  papers  to  him,  and  he 
heard  them  cry  something  relative  to  the  bank 
where  he  had  worked  all  his  life,  something  about 
Henry  Hollister ;  but  he  did  not  understand  what 
they  said,  and  he  would  not  read  the  papers, 
believing  that  he  already  knew  more  than  the 
printed  columns  could  tell  him. 


42       A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

Afternoon  found  him  at  the  corner  of  Wall 
Street  and  Broadway,  and  he  realized  that  he 
had  been  walking  steadily  for  nearly  twelve 
hours  —  that  he  had  neither  eaten  nor  rested  in 
all  that  time ;  and  at  that  moment,  two  gentlemen, 
satcheled  and  bundled,  hurried  past  him  in  the 
direction  of  the  East  River.  He  heard  one  of 
them  say  to  the  other,  in  Spanish : 

"  Querida  Cuba!  No  mas  que  tres  dias,  Manue- 
lito." 

Ashton  smiled.  The  haphazard  words  con- 
veyed the  suggestion  for  which  his  disturbed 
soul  had  been  longing.  Travel!  Reposing  safely 
within  his  pockets  there  were  still  the  ten  thousand 
dollars  he  had  realized  on  securities  that  were 
his  own  personal  property.  The  money  belonged 
to  him,  and  to  him  alone.  His  own  hands  were 
clean.  The  money  would  defray  his  expenses  and 
start  him  anew  in  another  part  of  the  world. 
The  impulse  was  upon  him.  He  crossed  the 
street,  and  in  a  moment,  without  realizing  the 
price  he  paid,  had  purchased  a  satchel.  There 
was  a  haberdasher  around  the  corner,  and  he 
hurried  there,  filled  the  bag  with  whatever  the 
clerk  suggested,  and  almost  before  he  compre- 
hended that  he  had  formed  a  resolution,  he  was 
hastening  down  Wall  Street  toward  the  Ward 
Line  pier. 


THE  INTERVAL  43 

Thus  the  steamship  sailed  away  with  him. 
He  went  to  Cuba,  and  for  a  week  wandered 
aimlessly  about  the  city  of  Havana,  doing  noth- 
ing; only  thinking;  always  thinking.  He  con- 
stantly hungered  for  news  from  home,  but  he  as 
studiously  avoided  it. 

"It  is  the  only  way  to  forget,"  he  thought, 
when  the  longing  for  information  concerning 
Hope  almost  overcame  him ;  and  he  fled  from  the 
intelligence  that  was  his  chief  desire,  just  as  the 
reformed  drunkard  flees  from  convivial  friends 
of  the  besotted  past. 

Thence  he  took  ship  to  Yucatan,  and  he  passed 
a  month  in  Merida.  Thence  to  Vera  Cruz  and 
Mexico;  and  then  on  and  on,  pausing  for  a  day 
or  a  week  in  one  place  and  another  until  at  last 
he  found  himself  in  San  Francisco. 

But  that  was  too  near  home;  and  he  was  not 
sufficiently  far  away  from  John  Ashton  —  and 
Hope  —  so  he  sailed  for  China  and  Japan. 

His  habits  were  regular.  He  indulged  in  no 
excesses  of  any  kind.  He  made  no  friends,  hardly 
any  acquaintances.  Fellow  travellers  regarded 
him  at  first  with  displeasure,  and  then  with  inter- 
est, for  he  was  cordiality  itself  when  addressed, 
but  never  once  began  a  conversation,  and  always 
brought  to  a  close  as  soon  as  possible  one  that 
was  introduced  by  another. 


44      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

After  China  and  Japan,  he  visited  other  coun- 
tries of  the  East.  He  passed  considerable  time 
in  India,  and  he  hesitated  a  long  while  in  Egypt. 
He  went  to  Turkey,  to  Italy,  to  Algiers,  to  France 
and  to  Paris. 

In  the  last  place  there  were  weeks  and  months 
of  indecision.  He  had  not  yet  determined  what 
he  would  do  with  that  future  of  which  he  had  as 
yet  scarcely  thought;  but  one  day  he  took  the 
train  and  journeyed  to  the  coast,  crossed  the 
channel  and  went  up  to  London. 

The  morning  of  his  second  day  in  London 
brought  with  it  a  troop  of  ghosts.  His  face  was 
drawn  and  haggard  and  whiter  than  ever,  for 
this  day  was  the  anniversary  of  that  one  which 
preceded  the  night  of  events  so  tragic  in  his  life. 

Ashton  rose  early  that  morning,  breakfasted, 
and  started  out  for  a  walk.  It  made  no  difference 
to  him  in  what  direction  his  footsteps  took  him, 
and  he  wandered  on  and  on  until  he  was  in  the 
country,  and  on  and  on  still  farther,  until  he 
entered  a  village,  and  recognized  the  streets  of 
Greenwich.  He  paused  several  times  in  the  main 
thoroughfare  to  watch  the  street  fakirs  at  their 
games,  studying  the  freaks  of  the  educated  dogs, 
and  the  sabre  swinging  of  the  retired  dragoon 
with  serious  interest. 

It  was  noon  when  he  arrived  at  the  Old  Ship 


THE  INTERVAL  45 

inn,  and  he  dined  on  whitebait  in  the  open  air, 
lazily  and  absently  watching  the  tan  coloured 
sails  as  they  floated  up  and  down  the  Thames, 
envying  the  rugged  boatmen,  wishing  that  he 
could  change  existence  with  the  poorest  of 
humanity  around  him,  wondering  how  much 
longer  he  could  endure  the  life  he  had  lived  for 
an  entire  year. 

In  that  manner  passed  several  hours,  until 
the  afternoon  was  far  advanced,  and  he  be- 
thought himself  of  returning  to  London.  Pres- 
ently, when  one  of  the  little  side  wheel  steamers 
drew  in  at  the  wharf,  he  got  aboard  and  was 
carried  among  the  maze  of  craft  which  crowded 
the  water  of  the  famous  river. 

The  boat  landed  him  in  the  vicinity  of  London 
Bridge,  and  again  he  walked  on  and  on  until 
he  found  himself  at  Piccadilly  Circus.  There, 
he  paused  a  little  while,  and  again  strode  on  to 
the  top  of  St.  James  Street,  and  once  more 
halted.  It  was  dark  now,  and  only  the  street 
lights  illuminated  the  scene,  but  that  was  suffi- 
cient to  enable  one  to  recognize  friends  as  they 
passed. 

Ashton  was  thinking  out  the  problem  of  re- 
turning to  New  York  and  surrendering  himself 
to  the  law.  There  was  no  happiness  in  the 
aimless,  wandering  life  he  was  leading,  and  during 


46      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

the  entire  day  he  had  been  wondering  if  it  would 
not  be  better  for  him  to  go  back  to  the  scene  of 
the  crime  he  believed  he  had  committed,  and  give 
himself  up,  and  he  had  about  decided  that  he 
would  do  so,  when  he  was  roused  from  his  stupor 
by  feeling  a  hand  upon  his  arm,  and  hearing  a 
voice  pronounce  his  name. 

"Jack,"  said  the  voice.  "Jack  —  Mr.  John 
—  thank  God  I  have  found  you!  " 

Ashton  turned  to  find  himself  almost  in  the 
embrace  of  a  man  who  was  past  the  prime  of 
life  and  who  bore  the  unmistakable  stamp  of  a 
respectable  upper  servant. 

"  Oh,  Jack  —  Mr.  Jack  —  my  lord  —  you  are 
alive  and  well,  are  you  not?  I  am  not  dreaming? 
It  is  really  you?  I  have  searched  for  you  every 
day  all  the  year;  every  day;  and  I  knew  that  I 
would  find  you.  You  will  go  home  with  me  now, 
sir?  Everything  is  just  as  you  left  it.  Do  you 
remember,  my  lord,  that  it  is  just  one  year  ago 
to-night  that  you  went  away?  " 

The  man  talked  rapidly,  so  that  Ashton  had 
no  chance  to  speak  until  he  had  finished;  and 
he  was  startled  when  he  was  reminded  that  it 
was  indeed  the  anniversary  of  his  going  away. 

"  Who  are  you? "  he  asked  the  stranger, 
wondering  if  he  had  really  mistaken  him  for 
another  person,  or  if  the  old  man  was  crazy. 


THE   INTERVAL  47 

"  Ah,  my  lord  —  Mr.  Jack  —  don't  say  that 
you  have  forgotten  Robert.  These  old  arms 
carried  you  when  you  were  too  young  to  walk. 
Don't  say  that  you  do  not  remember  Robert. 
You  will  go  home  with  me  now,  won't  you,  sir?  " 

"  I  have  not  forgotten  you,  Robert,  if  that  is 
your  name,  for  the  reason  that  I  never  knew  you," 
said  Ashton  calmly. 

"  Never  knew  me?  Never  knew  old  Robert? 
Have  you  forgotten,  my  lord,  who  I  am?  " 

"  Robert,"  said  Ashton,  slowly,  "  I  perceive 
that  you  are  in  earnest,  and  that  you  mean  all 
you  say;  that  you  believe  it.  But  you  have  made 
a  mistake.  I  am  not  the  man  you  seek.  I  am  not 
a  lord.  You  are  an  entire  stranger  to  me.  I  have 
never  seen  you  before.  You  will  have  to  search 
elsewhere  for  your  master.  I  wish  that  I  might 
help  you  to  find  him." 

The  expression  of  that  wish  was  like  a  flood  of 
light  upon  Robert's  intellect.  He  was  positive 
in  his  own  mind  that  it  was  his  master  who  stood 
before  him.  He  remembered  having  read  of 
strange  cases  of  men  who  had  wandered  away, 
forgetful  of  their  own  identities,  of  the  faces  of 
old  friends,  of  everything,  and  he  felt  sure  that 
Lord  John  was  suffering  from  a  malady  of  that 
kind.  It  explained  his  strange  disappearance; 
it  accounted  for  the  continued  absence;  and 


48      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

it  brought  a  pathetic  happiness  to  the  old  servant, 
for  by  reason  of  it  he  knew  that  his  master  had 
not  wilfully  absented  himself  from  his  home,  his 
friends  and  his  bride. 

"  If  I  can  only  induce  him  to  go  back  with  me," 
was  the  thought  in  Robert's  mind  when  Ashton 
expressed  the  wish  to  assist  him  in  the  search  for 
his  master,  and  he  grasped  at  the  straw  thus 
thrown  out. 

"  You  are  so  like  him,  sir,"  he  faltered,  finding 
it  hard  to  pretend  to  deceive  the  man  before  him, 
whom  he  so  thoroughly  believed  to  be  Lord 
John.  "  Perhaps  you  could  assist  me.  Will 
you  tell  me  your  name,  sir?  " 

"  Ashton,"  was  the  calm  reply,  for  the  reveries 
of  the  day  had  decided  him  to  reassume  the  one 
given  him  by  Henry  Hollister,  and  Robert 
smiled,  well  pleased,  for  the  name  was  another 
proof  of  the  correctness  of  his  theory. 

"  My  master  is  the  Earl  of  Ashton,  sir.  Ashton 
and  Cowingford.  Is  your  given  name  John,  sir?  " 

'  Yes.  My  full  name  is  John  Cowingford 
Ashton.  I  was  named  for  an  Englishman; 
perhaps  he  was  a  relative  of  your  master's.  It 
is  the  only  way  in  which  I  can  explain  the  co- 
incidence. Now  what  can  I  do  to  help  you, 
Robert?  " 

"  Oh,  you  can  do  a  great  deal,  I  know.     Will 


THE  INTERVAL  49 

you  come  home  with  me  and  let  me  tell  you  the 
story?  " 

"  No,  no;  you  can  come  to  me  to-morrow. 
Perhaps  it  will  give  me  some  interest  in  life  if  I 
assist  you  in  this  search." 

"  Come  with  me  now,  sir.  It  is  early  yet,  and 
you  will  see  nobody  but  me.  I  am  all  alone  in  the 
great  house,  sir.  Will  you  come  with  me?  It 
will  give  me  great  pleasure." 

"  After  I  have  eaten  I  will  go  to  the  house,  if 
it  will  do  you  so  much  good.  You  may  tell  me 
how  to  find  it." 

"  Ah,  sir,  if  you  would  but  come  with 
me  now  and  let  me  prepare  supper  for  you, 
just  as  I  would  do  for  my  master.  You  are 
so  like  him,  that  I  will  feel  that  I  am  doing 
it  for  him.  It  will  make  me  very  glad.  You  will 
come?  " 

Ashton  thought  a  moment. 

"  Yes,  if  it  will  please  you  so  much  to  deceive 
yourself,  and  you  are  sure  that  there  are  not 
others  there." 

"  There  is  only  one  other  person,  sir,  and  she 
never  leaves  her  room." 

"  Very  well.  If  I  can  do  anybody  any  good,  it 
will  be  a  pleasant  diversion." 

Ashton  raised  one  hand  in  signal  to  a  hansom 
and  motioned  for  Robert  to  enter. 


50      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Shall  I  ride  with  you,  sir?  "  he  asked,  hesi- 
tatingly. 

"  By  all  means.  Tell  cabby  where  to  take  us, 
and  get  inside." 

Robert  was  so  overjoyed  by  the  success  of  his 
efforts  that  he  could  scarcely  speak  and  his 
voice  trembled  when  he  gave  the  address  to  the 
driver ;  but  they  were  soon  on  their  way,  and  in  a 
very  short  time  were  set  down  at  the  door  of  the 
house  to  which  the  young  earl  had  taken  his  happy 
bride,  one  year  ago  that  very  day. 

"  Wait,  sir,"  said  Robert,  suddenly,  remember- 
ing that  Lady  Mercy  might  be  at  the  window, 
and  recognize  his  companion  as  he  had  done. 
The  shock  might  kill  her,  or  upset  her  reason,  and 
it  must  be  avoided.  "  We  will  drive  to  the  side 
door,  if  you  do  not  mind." 

"Anything,  Robert;  anywhere.  It  makes  no 
difference  to  me." 

"  Shall  I  take  you  to  my  own  cozy  room,  sir, 
where  I  pass  most  of  my  time,  or  would  you 
prefer  to  go  to  the  library?  "  asked  Robert  as 
they  entered  the  house. 

'  Your  own  room,  Robert." 

'  Yes,  sir.  This  way,  then,  if  you  please.  It 
is  pleasant  in  here.  I  am  very  fond  of  this  room, 
for  it  was  once  my  master's  playroom.  Will  you 
take  that  chair?  We  won't  try  to  talk  yet,  sir, 


THE   INTERVAL  51 

until  I  have  prepared  some  supper  for  you.  Your 
presence  makes  me  very  happy,  sir;  more  happy 
than  I  have  been  for  a  year ;  happier  than  I  ever 
was  in  my  life,  I  think.  Oh,  Jack,  Jack,  my  boy 
Jack,  don't  you  know  me  yet?  " 

Ashton  raised  his  eyes  half  angrily,  but  he  saw 
that  tears  were  running  down  the  old  man's 
cheeks,  and  he  did  not  reply.  Then  Robert 
turned  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   STORY  —  ROBERT'S   DELUSION 

WHEN  Robert  returned,  he  had  recovered  the 
imperturbable  calmness  for  which  English  serv- 
ants are  renowned.  He  actually  hummed  a 
favourite  air  'to  himself  while  he  was  engaged 
in  setting  the  table;  and  Ashton  watched  him 
curiously,  vaguely  wishing  himself  indeed  the 
lost  earl,  returned  to  enjoy  his  own  and  to  be 
waited  upon  by  such  a  servant. 

Once,  when  Robert  was  absent  from  the  room 
for  a  longer  period  than  usual,  he  returned  bear- 
ing a  smoking-jacket  and  a  pair  of  slippers,  and 
without  a  word  knelt  down  and  began  to  undo 
the  laces  of  Ashton's  dust  covered  shoes. 

"  You  might  as  well  be  comfortable,  sir,"  he 
said,  when  his  guest  demurred.  "  I  was  on  the 
point  of  saying  that  you  used  to  like  to  wear  these 
slippers  and  this  jacket  when  we  were  here 
together  in  this  way,  and  in  this  very  room.  You 
are  so  like  Lord  John,  sir,  that  I  forget  that  you 
are  not  actually  he.  You  will  pardon  me,  sir,  if  I 

62 


THE  STORY  53 

speak  in  that  way  sometimes?  It  does  me  good 
just  to  think  that  you  are  he.  He  was  almost 
like  my  own  boy,  you  know,  sir,  and  I  loved  him 
just  the  same.  You  won't  mind  if  I  keep  on 
thinking  that  you  are  the  earl,  if  the  thought 
gives  me  so  much  pleasure,  will  you?  " 

"  No,  Robert;  it  can  do  no  harm,  I  suppose; 
still,  it  seems  to  me  to  be  a  strange  sort  of  pleasure. 
You  will  find  that  the  slippers  will  not  fit  me, 
and  that  will  disabuse  your  mind  of  this  con- 
ceit." 

"  Oh,  they  will  fit  you,  sir,  never  fear.  They 
used  to  fit  perfectly,  you  know,  and  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  your  feet  have  grown.  There,  am  I 
not  right,  sir?  " 

"  I  can't  deny  it,  Robert.    It  is  all  very  strange." 

"Yes,  sir;  very  strange;  so  it  is,  but  the 
strangeness  will  wear  off  after  awhile." 

When  the  cold  tongue,  fresh  bread,  steaming 
chocolate,  the  inevitable  pot  of  marmalade  and  a 
profusion  of  delicacies  were  placed  upon  the 
table,  Robert  took  his  place  behind  the  chair  he 
had  arranged  for  Ashton,  and  bade  him  to  the 
repast. 

'  You  will  sup  with  me,  Robert,"  he  said,  as 
he  took  the  proffered  seat. 

1  Yes,  sir,  after  I  have  waited  upon  you.  You 
will  not  mind  if  I  prefer  to  do  things  just  as  I 


54      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

used   to   do   them,  before   you   went  —  that   is 
before  he  went  away?  " 

"  No;  please  yourself,  if  you  get  any  pleasure 
out  of  it." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  Why,  I  feel  ten  years  younger 
than  I  did  before  I  met  you  at  the  top  of  St. 
James  Street." 

"  Robert,  are  you  sure  that  you  are  in  your 
right  mind?  Try  to  think,  now,  and  see  if  you 
are  not  labouring  under  some  vivid  hallucination. 
This  is  all  so  confoundedly  preposterous,  and  you 
are  in  such  deadly  earnest,  that  by  Jove,  I  begin 
to  think  that  perhaps  I  am  the  earl  after  all,  and 
that  I  have  been  living  in  a  dream  for  thirty 
years  or  more." 

"  Thirty-one,  sir.     Thirty-one  last  February." 

"  Eh?  By  Jove,  that's  funny.  How  the  devil 
did  you  know  my  age?  " 

"  I  held  you  in  my  arms  before  you  were  a  day 
old,  sir." 

"  Well,  upon  my  soul,  Robert,  I  believe  that 
you  are  as  crazy  as  a  loon.  I  suspected  it  when 
you  first  addressed  me,  but  your  earnestness 
compelled  me  to  believe  you  sincere." 

"  No,  sir,  I  am  in  my  right  mind.  Don't 
think  about  that  at  all.  You  were  thirty-one  on 
the  tenth  day  of  last  February.  Isn't  that  true?  " 

"  Humph!    Not  quite,  Robert.     You  are  two 


THE  STORY  55 

days  off,  for  my  birthday  happens  on  the  twelfth. 
At  least,"  he  added  with  suddenly  clouded  brow, 
"  that  is  the  date  I  have  always  celebrated. 
Look  here,  Robert,  are  you  sure  that  your  master 
is  not  dead,  and  that  the  loss  of  one  you  loved 
so  dearly  sort  of  queered  you,  —  eh?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  if  he  had  died,  I  think  I  should 
have  died,  too.  I  won't  deny  that." 

"  Have  you  got  a  photograph  of  him?  " 
"  Yes,  sir.    Here  it  is,  and  a  perfect  likeness, 
too.    It  was  taken  just  a  week  before  you  went 
away." 

"  The  devil  it  was!  Eh?  Is  that  the  earl?  " 
"  Yes,  sir.    Go  to  the  mirror,  sir,  and  look  upon 
the  picture  and  then  at  yourself.    What  do  you 
think  of  it?  " 

"  I  think,  if  this  is  a  likeness  of  the  earl,  I  don't 
blame  you.  It  could  not  have  been  more  like 
me  if  I  had  sat  for  it  myself." 

"That   it   could  not,    sir;    that's   the  truth. 
Now,  if  you  will  sit  here  in  this  chair,  I  will  bring 
you  one  of  your  favourite  cigars.     They  are  all 
the  better  for  being  a  year  older,  you  know." 
"  Yes,  that  is  what  the  Englishmen  think." 
When  Ashton  had  lighted  the  cigar,  he  smoked 
on  in  silence  for  several  moments  while  Robert 
stood  faithfully  beside  him,  devouring  him  with 
his  eyes,  stroking  the  backs  of  his  own  hands 


56      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

softly,  his  whole  attitude  one  of  devotion,  almost 
rapture. 

Presently  Ashton  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh  — 
the  first  time  in  a  year  that  he  had  laughed 
aloud  —  and  the  sound,  emanating  from  him- 
self, was  strange  to  him,  and  it  ceased  as  abruptly 
as  it  began. 

"  What  is  it?  What  is  the  matter?  "  asked 
Robert. 

"  Suppose  the  earl  were  to  walk  in  here  now, 
and  find  me  arrayed  in  his  smoking  jacket,  wear- 
ing his  slippers  and  smoking  his  cigars.  What 
do  you  think  he  would  do,  Robert?  " 

"  He  would  sit  right  down  here  and  smoke 
with  you,  sir,  and  say  it  was  an  excellent  joke. 
I  am  sure  that  he  would,  sir." 

"  Well,  perhaps  he  would,  but  I  am  not  half 
so  sure  of  it  as  you  are.  How  long  has  he  been 
away? " 

"  He  left  the  house  one  year  ago  to-night,  sir." 

"  Humph!  And  I  left  my  home  one  year  ago 
to-night,  too." 

4  Yes,  sir;  certainly.  Of  course  you  did. 
Don't  you  remember,  there  was  a  wed  —  ahem! 
a  sort  of  party  here,  sir?  A  lot  of  your  old 
friends,  and  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales 
and  —  " 

"  Hold  on,  Robert.    Great  Scott,  man!    What 


THE  STORY  57 

are  you  talking  about?  I  think  I  know  what  is 
the  matter.  The  party  you  refer  to  was  a  funeral, 
eh?  And  the  earl  was  dead?  Now  stop  and 
think  if  I  am  not  right." 

"  You  see,  sir  "  —  calmly  —  "  you  cannot  be 
correct,  because  if  that  were  true,  there  would 
be  another  earl  here  now.  If  he  had  died  as  you 
say,  the  next  in  line  would  have  inherited  the 
title  and  the  estates.  You  understand  that,  do 
you  not,  sir?  " 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure.  Decidedly,  this  is  the  most 
remarkable  circumstance,  take  it  all  through,  that 
I  ever  heard  of.  Now  you  get  that  chair  and  put 
it  there.  That's  right.  Sit  down  upon  it,  and 
tell  me  the  story  of  the  disappearance  of  the  earl, 
from  beginning  to  end.  Perhaps  we  can  get 
something  out  of  it;  at  all  events,  we'll  try. 
While  you  are  telling  it,  I  want  you  to  observe 
one  thing." 

"  Certainly,  my  lord." 

"  Bosh!  You  carry  this  farce  too  far.  I  want 
you  to  remember  that  you  are  speaking  of  the 
earl  and  not  of  me.  Have  you  exhausted  every 
effort  to  find  him?  " 

"  I  have  searched  everywhere,  sir." 

"  Did  you  notify  the  police?  " 

"  No,  sir,  the  countess  would  not  have  it  so. 
She  preferred  —  " 


58      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"The  countess!  Good  Heavens!  Was  he 
married? " 

"  Yes,  sir;  the  ceremony  —  " 

"Stop!" 

Ashton  leaped  to  his  feet,  kicked  off  the  slip- 
pers and  threw  off  the  jacket  before  Robert 
realized  what  he  was  doing. 

"  Where  is  the  countess  now?  "  he  demanded. 
"  Here  in  this  house?  Good  God,  Robert,  you 
don't  suppose  I  want  to  be  caught  here  under 
these  circumstances,  do  you?  Where  is  my  hat?  " 

"  Please  wait,  sir.  Let  me  help  you  on  with 
this  jacket  again.  The  countess  is  not  here. 
She  is  abroad,  sir.  She  has  been  abroad  a  year. 
There  is  no  one  in  the  house  but  ourselves." 

"  And  a  woman.  You  spoke  about  a  woman. 
Who  is  she? " 

"  A  servant,  sir." 

"  Where  is  she?  " 

"  In  her  own  room,  sir.  She  is  an  invalid, 
and  never  leaves  it.  There,  that  is  better.  Now 
the  slippers;  so,  and  so;  and  your  cigar?  You 
threw  it  away  and  you  must  have  a  fresh  one. 
Now,  shall  I  tell  you  the  story?  " 

"  Yes.  I'll  play  the  earl  for  a  little  while  and 
listen  to  you.  You  gave  me  quite  a  start, 
though." 

Ashton  had  permitted  himself  to  be  gently 


THE  STORY  59 

thrust  back  into  the  chair,  and  so,  rejacketed 
and  reslippered,  he  resumed  his  former  posi- 
tion. 

"  Where  shall  I  begin,  sir? "    asked  Robert. 
"  At  the  wedding  ceremony?  " 
"  Yes,  if  that  is  the  proper  place." 
"  Do  you  remember,  sir,  how  beautiful  Lady 
Mercy  looked  that   morning? "    asked    Robert, 
musingly,  for  his  mind  had  leaped  back  over  the 
year  and  the  spectacle  of  that  day  was  passing 
in  review  before  him.     He  saw  again  the  in- 
creasing dawn;  heard  again  the  twitter  of  birds; 
felt  once  more  the  pleasure  of  that  early  morning 
wedding;  but  he  was  rudely  awakened  from  his 
dream  by  the  voice  of  Ashton,  calmly  inquiring: 
"  Who  is  Lady  Mercy?    The  countess?  " 
Robert's  emotions  were  too  greatly  magnified 
to  admit  of  expression.     He  could  only  stare  at 
Ashton  in  melancholy  and  pathetic  silence,  for 
he  did  not  know  what  to  say. 

He  had  thought  that  a  delicate  reference  to 
Lady  Mercy  might  recall  something  of  the  rare 
beauty  of  her  face  and  character  to  the  mind  of 
his  guest  —  that  it  might  rekindle  the  spark  of 
memory  which  he  firmly  believed  was  smolder- 
ing underneath  a  mass  of  forgetfulness  so  dense 
that  only  time,  patience  and  constant  reference 
to  things  of  the  past  could  remove  it.  There  was 


60      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

not  in  his  mind  a  single  doubt  that  the  rightful 
earl  was  in  his  presence,  enjoying  his  own. 

He  believed  with  the  same  sincerity  that  he 
worshipped  God,  that  Lord  John  had  met  with 
some  accident  which  had  stolen  his  memory, 
and  that  constant  association  with  things  of  the 
past  would  gradually  restore  it;  but  he  was  in 
terror  lest  he  should  say  something  that  would 
again  start  him  away,  and  the  problem  that  he 
had  to  face,  and  which  at  that  moment  seemed  to 
him  to  be  the  most  vital,  was  how  to  keep  the 
earl  there  in  his  own  home,  under  his  watchful 
care,  until  recollection  returned,  and  he  should 
again  become  master  of  his  faculties. 

While  preparing  the  supper,  he  had  the  fore- 
thought to  go  to  the  apartments  of  the  countess 
and  tell  her  that  he  had  company  in  his  own  room, 
and  that  he  would  return  to  her  when  his  guest 
had  departed,  for  he  had  not  dared  to  run  the 
risk  of  telling  her  who  he  believed  that  guest 
to  be  until  he  had  studied  the  situation  thor- 
oughly, and  was  prepared  to  act  for  each  of 
them.  Now,  his  one  thought  was,  how  to  bring 
the  countess  and  the  earl  together,  for  down  deep 
in  his  faithful  heart  he  was  convinced  that  such 
a  meeting  would  be  the  final  solution  of  all  the 
difficulties;  but  he  loved  his  mistress  too  well 
to  run  the  risk  of  introducing  the  earl  into  her 


THE  STORY  61 

presence  until  he  was  sure  that  he  would  recognize 
her.  When  at  last  he  responded  to  the  question 
that  Ashton  asked,  it  was  to  say,  calmly: 

"  Yes,  Lady  Mercy  is  the  countess.  Would 
you  like  to  see  her  picture?  " 

"  Surely,  if  you  have  one  here." 

"  I  have  one  that  was  taken  at  the  same  time 
as  yours  —  the  earl's,  I  mean.  Here  it  is.  Tell 
me  if  you  have  any  recollection  of  the  face." 

He  gave  the  photograph  into  Ashton' s  hands, 
and  the  latter  took  it  and  held  it  face  downward 
while  without  severity,  but  in  sincere  earnest- 
ness, he  said,  slowly: 

"  Robert,  I  cannot  permit  you  to  continue  this 
farce  of  associating  me  with  the  earl.  It  is  not 
good  for  you.  Understand  once  for  all  that  I 
am  not  the  earl,  that  I  never  heard  of  him  until 
I  met  you  to-day,  that  I  never  saw  this  house  or 
this  room  before  and  that  I  will  not  be  a  party 
to  any  such  deception  or  attempt  at  deception. 
At  first  it  amused  me,  then  it  interested  me,  but 
now  it  is  taking  a  serious  turn,  and  I  cannot 
permit  it  to  continue.  If  there  were  no  countess, 
I  might  be  disposed  to  humour  you ;  but  as  it  is, 
it  is  not  to  be  thought  of  for  an  instant.  Unless 
you  will  promise  me  to  drop  the  idea  utterly, 
and  not  to  refer  to  it  again,  I  must  withdraw  my 
offer  to  assist  you,  and  leave  this  place  at  once. 


62      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

Do  you  understand  that  I  mean  what  I 
say?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  will  endeavour 
not  to  offend  again.  Now  will  you  look  at  the 
picture  of  the  countess?  " 

"  She  is  very  beautiful.  There  is  strength  and 
power  as  well  as  beauty  in  the  face,  too.  Did 
they  love  each  other,  Robert?  " 

"  Yes,  they  loved  as  few  people  in  this  world 
love." 

Poor  Robert.  He  was  torn  by  a  thousand 
conflicting  emotions.  He  had  expected  that  there 
would  be  some  faint  spark  of  recognition  in  the 
mind  of  his  guest  when  his  eyes  should  fall  upon 
that  portrait,  but  there  was  none.  He  looked 
eagerly,  with  hunger  in  his  eyes  and  heart,  for 
such  a  sign,  but  he  saw  none,  and  there  shot 
through  him  something  like  despair  at  the  mag- 
nitude of  the  task  before  him. 

If  he  only  dared  to  consult  a  physician;  but 
that  was  not  to  be  thought  of,  for  it  would  dis- 
please Lady  Mercy.  No,  there  was  only  one  way 
and  he  sighed  as  he  thought  of  it.  He  must 
watch  and  wait,  with  patience,  perseverance 
and  love.  Love  would  conquer  in  the  end.  He 
felt  assured  of  that.  If  he  were  debarred  from 
referring  to  his  guest  as  the  master  of  the  house, 
and  treating  him  as  such,  there  was  still  one 


THE  STORY  63 

course  left  open  to  him,  and  that  was,  constantly 
to  bring  the  supposed  earl  in  contact  with  reminis- 
cences and  things  of  the  past,  and  thus  gradually 
to  revive  his  recollection. 

Something  —  he  did  not  know  what,  but  he 
thoroughly  believed  that  there  was  something, 
somewhere,  which,  if  his  lord  were  brought  in 
sudden  contact  with  it,  would  fan  that  smoulder- 
ing spark  of  memory  into  a  blaze  which  would 
burn  away  the  obstructions  over  which  he  now 
found  it  impossible  to  see.  Robert  honestly  be- 
lieved that  he  was  constituted  the  special  agent  of 
the  Almighty  for  the  purpose  of  administering 
draughts  of  reminiscence  to  his  master,  and  that 
ultimately  he  would  succeed  in  restoring  health 
and  strength  to  the  mind  that  was  now  wandering 
through  an  unknown  realm.  If  it  was  necessary 
at  first  to  give  the  medicine  in  small  doses,  and 
without  the  consciousness  of  the  patient,  the 
nurse  must  be  patient  and  steadfast;  and  he 
prayed  for  strength,  endurance,  humility  and 
knowledge  to  fulfil  his  mission. 

But  there  was  another,  and,  in  some  respects, 
a  greater  responsibility  upon  him:  the  countess. 

It  was  vitally  necessary  that  something  should 
be  said  to  her;  but  what?  He  had  already  told 
her  that  he  had  a  guest  below,  who  was  awaiting 
him,  and  that  was  an  unprecedented  event  in  itself. 


64       A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

During  the  year  that  had  passed  he  had  never 
once  admitted  a  stranger  to  the  house;  how, 
therefore,  should  he  now  have  a  guest?  And 
having  one,  who  was  he?  How  account  for  his 
presence  without  revealing  all  that  he  believed 
to  be  the  truth. 

The  countess,  naturally,  would  require  an  ex- 
planation; or  rather,  she  would  expect  one. 
Robert  felt  that  he  would  rather  defy  a  regiment 
of  interrogation  points  than  to  face  the  battery 
of  her  great  eyes.  How  should  he  reply  to  their 
unvoiced  questions?  He  almost  forgot  the  im- 
portance of  the  conditions  immediately  surround- 
ing him,  in  contemplation  of  this  new  perplexity. 
Should  he  tell  her  the  truth? 

In  all  his  life,  Robert  had  never  lied  for  him- 
self. He  had  lied  for  others,  time  and  time  again ; 
but  never  for  himself,  and  he  did  not  know  how. 
His  mind  was  too  primitive  and  too  honest  to 
permit  him  deliberately  to  tell  her  what  he  knew 
to  be  an  untruth  regarding  the  most  vital  cir- 
cumstance in  her  life ;  and  yet  to  tell  her  what  he 
honestly  believed  he  absolutely  knew  to  be  the 
unvarnished  fact,  might  prostrate  her;  might  be 
her  undoing,  and  might  —  and  he  feared  that 
it  would  —  destroy  the  chances  that  God  had 
vouchsafed  him,  for  the  reclamation  of  his  lost 
master. 


THE  STORY  65 

In  the  meantime,  Ashton  had  become  impatient 
for  a  continuation  of  the  stoiy  that  Robert  had 
promised  to  tell  him.  His  own  history  had  made 
him  cynical;  his  experiences  during  the  year 
just  passed  had  rendered  him  incredulous  of  all 
things;  but  he  was  a  man  born  with  a  natural 
love  for  his  fellow  man;  it  was  his  nature  to 
recognize  virtues  at  the  same  time  that  he  blinded 
himself  to  vices;  he  loved  to  overlook  a  great 
fault,  if  by  so  doing  he  could  discover  an  in- 
significant good  intention,  and  during  the  hour 
that  had  passed  since  he  entered  the  house  of 
the  earl,  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that 
Robert  was  unqualifiedly  mad.  Harmlessly  so, 
perhaps,  but  thoroughly  insane.  A  monomaniac, 
utterly  daft  on  the  one  subject,  while  remaining 
entirely  rational  concerning  everything  else;  and, 
that  being  the  case,  it  was  very  much  better  to 
humour  him  to  the  utmost. 

"  Come,  Robert,"  he  said  at  last,  "  tell  me 
about  that  wedding,  and  what  followed  it; " 
and  Robert,  thoroughly  sincere,  but  still  under 
the  influence  of  his  thoughts,  replied: 

"  Yes,  my  lord." 


CHAPTER  V 
ROBERT'S  DELUSION  —  A  FUTILE  HOPE 

THERE  was  nothing  forgotten  or  neglected  in 
the  story  that  Robert  told.  He  began  at  the 
time  when  Lord  John  was  a  boy  and  related 
everything  that  could,  in  his  belief,  serve  to 
reenlighten  the  recollection  of  his  auditor. 

He  referred  to  the  young  man's  chums  at  Eton 
and  Oxford,  mentioning  the  names  of  many  of 
them;  he  even  told  of  the  childhood  playfellow- 
ship  between  Lady  Mercy  and  the  young  earl,  of 
their  long  separation,  and  their  subsequent  meet- 
ing. He  related,  graphically,  how  they  became 
engaged,  and  he  told  of  the  wedding  in  detail,  even 
describing  the  flowers  and  mentioning  the  names 
of  guests  whose  personality  had  been  dear  to  Lord 
John.  He  told  of  the  early  morning  ceremony, 
recalled  the  glory  of  that  dawning  day,  the  songs 
of  the  birds,  and  the  harmony  and  peace  of  the 
entire  scene. 

Then,  bit  by  bit,  he  went  through  the  day  of 

66 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  67 

reception,  forgetting  nothing,  even  to  the  most 
trivial  detail,  and  dwelling  at  considerable  length 
upon  the  message  that  was  brought  to  him,  and 
which  he  in  turn  delivered  to  the  earl:  "Tell 
him  that  his  friend  Tom  must  see  him  at  once; 
he  will  understand." 

He  told  how  he  had  placed  the  earl's  hat  on 
his  head,  and  watched  him  when  he  left  the  house, 
and  how  he  had  waited  at  the  door  for  his  return, 
until  the  peremptory  summons  from  the  countess 
called  him  from  his  post. 

During  the  recital  his  eyes  never  once  left  the 
face  of  his  guest.  He  watched  him  as  the  pro- 
verbial cat  watches  the  unregenerate  mouse,  en- 
deavouring by  his  words  to  recall  a  sign  of  recog- 
nition of  the  circumstances  described.  But  there 
was  a  chill  at  his  heart  when  he  realized  his 
utter  failure,  for  there  was  not  a  suggestion  of 
responsiveness  upon  the  face  of  the  man  who 
listened. 

Robert  sighed  resignedly,  with  the  mental 
reservation  that  he  must  be  patient  and  wait; 
and  then  he  plunged  into  the  subsequent  hap- 
penings, withholding  only  the  fact  that  the 
countess  had  remained  in  the  home  of  her  hus- 
band while  they  were  supposed  to  be  travelling 
abroad,  and  that  she  was  still  there,  virtually 
a  prisoner,  awaiting  the  return  of  the  man  she 


68      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

loved,  and  still  strong  in  the  confidence  that  he 
would  one  day  come  back  to  her. 

When  at  last  the  story  was  told,  when  even 
Robert  felt  that  there  was  nothing  left  to  relate, 
Ashton,  who  had  permitted  his  cigar  to  go  out, 
relighted  it,  and  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  said 
coolly : 

"  Robert,  the  earl  is  dead." 

"  Dead!  "  cried  Robert.  "  No,  sir,  I  do  not 
believe  it." 

"  He  is  dead.  Nothing  short  of  death  could  have 
kept  him  all  this  time  away  from  "  —  he  hesi- 
tated and  raised  the  photograph  of  the  countess 
until  he  held  it  before  his  eyes  —  "  such  a  bride 
as  that.  He  is  dead,  or  he  would  have  come 
back  before  this." 

"  It  may  be,  sir,  it  may  be;  but  I  cannot 
believe  it,"  said  Robert. 

"  Jealousy  killed  him.  The  fact  that  he  was 
called  away  from  his  bride  even  before  he  had  a 
chance  to  touch  her  lips  with  his,  proves  that. 
Nothing  short  of  the  hate  of  a  woman  could  have 
been  as  relentless  as  that.  We  will  give  up  the 
search  for  Lord  John,  even  before  we  begin  it, 
Robert." 

1  Yes,  sir,  if  you  think  best." 

"  And  I  will  assist  you  to  find  his  mur- 
derer." 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  69 

"Yes,  sir;  and  even  if  his  soul  —  that 
is,  his  memory,  has  fled,  we  will  find  his 
body." 

"  Humph!  That  is  a  year  old  now,  and  you  had 
better  let  it  lie ;  but  we  will  find  out  what  became 
of  it." 

"  That  is  what  I  mean,  sir.  If  we  can  find  out 
positively  what  became  of  his  body,  that  is  all  I 
ask ;  and  if  you  will  promise  to  assist  me,  I  shall 
feel  that  success  is  almost  within  my  grasp.  You 
see,  sir"  —  and  Robert's  face  became  pitiful  in 
the  anxiety  he  expressed,  lest  he  should  again 
say  the  wrong  thing  at  the  wrong  time  —  "  be- 
sides the  countess  and  myself,  you  are  the  only 
person  in  the  world  who  knows  that  the  earl  ever 
disappeared,  and  I  need  the  advice  and  assistance 
of  a  man  like  yourself;  I  do  not  know  how  to 
act,  alone,  for,  after  all,  sir,  I  am  only  a  servant. 
Then,  by  and  by" — there  was  marked  hesita- 
tion in  the  old  man's  speech  now  —  ' '  after  you 
have  got  things  more  thoroughly  in  your  grasp, 
perhaps  I  can  induce  you  to  meet  the  countess 
and  talk  with  her.  You  can  understand  how 
isolated  she  feels,  with  nobody  in  the  whole  world 
to  turn  to  —  that  is,  nobody  but  me,  and  I  am 
nobody  in  a  matter  of  this  kind.  It  is  all  very 
sad,  sir,  for  she  looks  to  me  for  everything,  and 
I  —  well,  I  am  not  competent  to  do  all  that  should 


70      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

be  done,  sir,  or  to  advise  upon  any  subject  out  of 
my  own  sphere." 

Ashton  remained  silent  for  several  moments 
after  Robert  ceased  speaking.  He  was  quietly 
puffing  at  his  cigar  and  watching  the  smoke  as  it 
curled  and  eddied  the  frescoed  ceiling.  For  the 
first  time  in  a  whole  year,  he  had  found  something 
to  interest  him  sufficiently  to  take  his  mind  from 
himself,  and  it  was  invigorating. 

The  photograph  of  the  countess  was  still  in 
his  possession,  and  he  raised  it  several  times,  and 
studied  the  features  of  Lady  Mercy.  The  face 
attracted  him,  interested  him.  It  seemed  to 
appeal  to  him  to  give  all  the  assistance  he  could 
to  this  faithful  old  servant  whose  life  and  soul 
were  bound  up  in  devotion  to  her  and  the  missing 
earl. 

All  the  time  that  he  was  thinking  and  studying 
the  pictured  face  of  Lady  Mercy,  he  was  himself 
the  subject  of  scrutinizing  observation.  Robert's 
eyes  never  left  him.  They  glowed  with  anticipa- 
tion every  time  he  realized  that  the  thoughts 
of  his  guest  were  fixed  upon  the  countess.  He 
believed  that  Lord  John  felt  the  thrill  of  something 
long  forgotten  and  but  dimly  suggested  to  his 
memory  by  the  photograph  of  the  woman  he 
had  loved. 

"  Suppose,  Robert,"  said  Ashton,  after  he  had 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  71 

thought  out  what  he  considered  best  to  do, 
"  suppose  that  the  countess  should  feel  that  you 
have  taken  a  great  liberty  in  revealing  to  an 
entire  stranger  the  secret  that  she  has  guarded 
so  jealously;  suppose  that  she  should  reprimand 
you  for  it  —  what  then?  " 

"I  know  that  she  will  not  take  it  that  way, 
sir." 

"  Possibly  not,  but  women  are  apt  to  view 
things  differently  from  men.  I  can  understand 
why  you  should  feel  towards  me  as  you  do; 
it  is  the  likeness  that  I  bear  to  the  earl,  but  that 
very  fact  will  probably  be  offensive  to  her." 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  is  it;  and  it  is  something  more 
than  that,  too,"  referring  to  the  first  part  of 
Ashton's  remarks,  "  you  not  only  look  like  him, 
sir,  but  you  are  like  him  —  in  everything,  and 
that  is  why  I  know  that  you  are  good  and  noble 
and  that  I  ought  to  confide  in  you  and  ask  your 
help.  And  as  for  the  countess  taking  offence 
because  you  are  like  Lord  John  —  it  isn't  to  be 
thought  of,  sir." 

"  Has  she  no  father,  or  brothers,  or  somebody 
more  appropriate  than  I,  to  whom  she  could 
appeal?  " 

"  No,  sir.  She  is  an  orphan.  She  had  one 
brother,  but  he  died  in  India,  several  years 
ago." 


72      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Then  some  near  friend  of  her  father's  or 
brother's,  or  an  old  chum  of  the  earl's  would  be 
better." 

"  There  is  nobody,  sir,  in  whom  she  is  willing 
to  confide." 

"It  is  a  pity.  It  seems  to  me,  Robert,  that 
there  is  a  duty  to  be  performed  in  this  matter." 

"  Yes,  sir;  what  is  it?  " 

"  Who  succeeds  to  the  title  in  the  event  of  Lord 
John's  death? " 

"  A  distant  cousin." 

"  What  is  his  name?  Where  does  he  live? 
Who  and  what  is  he?  In  short,  tell  me  all  about 
him." 

"  Well,  sir,  I  don't  rightly  know  where  he  is 
now;  I  don't  think  anybody  does  know,  for  he 
has  not  been  in  London  for  nearly  five  years." 

"  What  is  his  name?  " 

"  His  name  is  Hertford.  Perhaps,  sir,  you  may 
remember  to  have  heard  the  name  somewhere 
before." 

Poor  Robert  dwelt  lingeringly  upon  the  last 
sentence,  hoping  against  hope  that  there  would 
be  some  start  of  recognition  in  the  face  of  his 
auditor;  hoping  that  the  name  would  revive  a 
spark  of  memory,  would  touch  a  long  disused, 
untuned  chord  in  the  recollection  of  his  guest; 
but  there  was  nothing.  Ashton  did  not  even 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  73 

remove   the   cigar   from   his   lips   nor  alter   his 
attitude  by  the  diameter  of  a  hair. 

"  No,"  he  said  meditatively,   "  I  do  not  re- 
member to  have  heard  it  before;"  and  Robert 
breathed    a    sigh    of    intense    disappointment. 
"  What  is  his  given  name?  " 

"  His  full  name  is  Richard  Herndon  Hertford, 
sir.  His  mother  was  a  Herndon  —  Lady  Grace; 
surely  you  must  remember  her,  Mr.  John,  for  —  " 

"Robert!" 

Ashton  spoke  sharply,  at  the  same  time  casting 
his  half  smoked  cigar  from  him  and  rising  from 
his  feet. 

"  I  have  warned  you  several  times  that  you  must 
not  continue  this  farce  of  persistently  confounding 
my  identity  with  that  of  your  missing  master. 
It  is  a  harmless  deceit,  perhaps,  except  so  far  as 
you  are  personally  concerned,  but  it  is  not  good 
for  you,  and  it  must  not  continue,  unless  you 
want  me  to  go  away  and  leave  you,  for  I  will 
not  remain  and  listen  to  that  sort  of  twaddle. 
I  realize  that  you  are  in  great  distress  over  his 
disappearance,  and  I  am  willing  to  help  you  in 
any  way  I  can,  but  there  must  be  no  more  of  that 
sort  of  thing;  I  will  not  have  it.  I  am  not  the 
missing  earl;  I  am  not  Lord  John;  I  am  not 
even  an  Englishman.  You  should  be  aware  of  that 
from  my  manner  of  speaking." 


74      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Yes,  sir;  yes,  sir.  Pardon  me,  pray  pardon 
me!  I  forget,  you  know.  You  are  so  like  him, 
and  when  I  see  you  sitting  there,  looking  just  as 
he  looked,  speaking  with  his  voice,  looking  at 
me  with  his  eyes  —  " 

"  Smoking  his  cigars  and  wearing  his  jacket 
and  slippers  —  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  perhaps  that  has  something  to  do 
with  it,  too  —  I  forget  myself.  I  am  not  as  young 
as  I  once  was,  sir.  May  I  —  would  you  mind, 
sir,  if  I  should  sometimes  address  you  as  Mr. 
John?  You  see,  that  is  your  name,  sir,  and  it 
was  his  name,  too.  Perhaps  if  I  could  do  that, 
I  would  be  less  likely  to  offend  you  in  the  other 
way,  and  it  would  humour  the  whim  of  an  old 
man.  Would  you  mind  it  very  much,  sir?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,  Robert.  Call  me  Mr.  John 
as  much  as  you  like,  or  Jack,  if  it  pleases  you 
better.  It  should  be  an  honour  to  any  man  to 
be  on  terms  of  familiarity  with  as  true  and  honest 
a  heart  as  yours.  I  wish  from  the  depths  of  my 
soul  that  I  were  the  missing  earl,  returned  to  be 
cared  for  and  coddled  by  such  a  faithful  old  serv- 
ant. But  I  am  not,  and  I  won't  be  milorded  any 
more." 

'  Thank  you  —  thank  you,  Mr.  John."  Robert 
uttered  the  name  that  he  was  permitted  to  use, 
with  a  lingering  enunciation  impossible  to  describe. 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  75 

It  dwelt  on  his  tongue  like  a  delectable  morsel, 
too  rare  to  be  hastily  parted  with.  "  You  will 
resume  your  seat  now,  sir?  Thank  you  —  thank 
you!  Now  let  me  give  you  a  glass  of  this  sherry 
and  a  fresh  cigar.  There!  You  gave  me  such  a 
start  when  you  got  up  so  suddenly,  and  I  knew 
that  I  had  offended  again.  It  is  very  kind  of  you 
to  put  up  with  the  mistakes  that  I  am  constantly 
making.  We  were  speaking  of  Mr.  Richard 
Hertford,  I  believe,  and  I  had  just  mentioned 
Lady  Grace,  his  mother." 

"  Yes." 

"  Lady  Grace  was  called  the  most  beautiful 
woman  in  England  in  her  time.  It  is  ten  years 
since  she  died.  Mr.  Richard's  father  was  General 
Hertford.  He  was  killed  in  India,  shortly  before 
Lady  Grace  passed  away.  He  was  first  cousin 
to  the  late  earl,  Lord  John's  father,  so  you  see, 
sir  —  " 

"  Spare  me  the  family  history,  Robert,  and  come 
down  to  Richard  Hertford.  How  old  a  man  is 
he,  and  where  is  he  likely  to  be  found  now?  " 

41  Well,  sir,  he  is  something  more  than  ten  years 
your  senior  —  I  remember  that  it  is  another 
coincidence  that  you  are  the  same  age  as  Lord 
John  —  and  he  is  a  great  traveller,  seldom  re- 
maining in  England  more  than  a  few  weeks  at  a 
time.  He  possesses  a  private  fortune  which  is 


76      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

much  more  than  sufficient  for  his  needs,  for  I  know 
that  he  does  not  use  half  his  income.  I  believe 
that  at  the  present  time  he  is  somewhere  in 
South  America." 

"  Were  Richard  Hertford  and  the  earl 
friends? " 

"  The  very  best  of  friends,  sir." 

"  Well,  Robert,  it  is  my  opinion  that  an  effort 
should  be  made  to  communicate  with  Richard 
Hertford  at  once.  He  is  the  proper  person  to 
assist  you  and  the  countess  in  the  search  for  the 
missing  earl,  and  he  is  the  one  who  is  entitled 
to  the  title  and  estates  if,  as  I  believe,  the  earl 
is  dead.  His  bankers  doubtless  know  where  to 
find  him." 

"  I  think  they  would,  sir." 

'  Then  it  is  your  duty  to  call  upon  them  at 
once." 

"  Very  well,  Mr.  John,  I  will  do  so,  but  it  is 
only  with  the  consent  of  Lady  Mercy  that  I  can 
promise  to  communicate  with  him." 

"  Certainly.  And  now,  Robert,  it  is  long  past 
midnight  and  I  must  go." 

"  Surely,  sir,  you  are  not  going  away  to-night!  " 
cried  Robert,  aghast  at  the  mere  thought,  for 
until  that  instant  it  had  not  occurred  to  him 
that  his  guest  had  any  idea  of  not  remaining  in 
the  house  over  night. 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  77 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  expect  me  to  do? 
Sleep  here?  "  demanded  Ashton,  in  surprise. 

"  Most  certainly,  sir.  You  came  here  at  my 
request,  as  a  favour  to  me.  It  is  very  late  and 
there  is  not  a  cab  stand  nearer  than  a  mile.  I 
can  provide  you  with  every  comfort,  so  that  you 
will  not  miss  your  luggage  at  all.  I  shall  take 
it  quite  unkindly,  Mr.  John,  if  you  insist  upon 
going  away  to-night,  and" — with  insinuating 
deference  —  "  the  earl  would  be  deeply  incensed 
if  he  should  return  and  discover  that  I  had  per- 
mitted you  to  do  so.  You  will  remain,  sir?  " 

John  Ashton  leaned  back  in  the  chair  from 
which  he  had  partially  risen,  and  laughed  softly, 
for  he  was  intensely  amused  by  the  absurdity  of 
the  situation.  There  could  be  no  harm  in  remain- 
ing as  the  guest  of  the  old  and  trusted  servant, 
and  he  saw  that  Robert  was  genuinely  pained  by 
the  suggestion  of  his  going  away. 

Had  he  known  that  the  countess  was  in  the 
house,  he  would  not  for  one  instant  have  con- 
sidered the  idea  of  remaining,  but  he  had  been 
assured  that  there  was  only  one  other  person 
besides  Robert  and  himself  beneath  the  roof, 
and  that  person  was  doubtless  the  housekeeper  — 
another  old  and  tried  dependent,  like  the  one 
before  him.  There  was,  also,  a  spice  of  adventure 
about  the  affair,  which  fascinated  him.  He  had 


78      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

permitted  the  circumstance  to  direct  his  thoughts 
and  actions  for  so  long  a  time,  that  he  now  had 
little  inclination  to  resist  its  influence.  And 
again,  the  mere  fact  that  the  incident  had  forced 
the  ghost  of  a  laugh  from  his  sombre  soul  was 
sufficient  inducement  of  itself.  He  decided  to 
humour  the  old  man  still  more,  and  stay. 

"  Very  well,  Robert,"  he  said,  laughing  again. 
"  I  will  don  one  of  Lord  John's  night  shirts  and 
sleep  in  Lord  John's  bed,  since  you  seem  to  wish 
it  so  earnestly;  only  find  them  both  without 
delay,  for  I  am  very  tired  and  your  old  sherry 
has  made  me  sleepy.  By  morning,  doubtless, 
you  will  see  things  differently,  or  at  least  more 
clearly,  and  perhaps,  under  the  circumstances, 
it  is  my  duty  to  remain." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  most  decidedly  it  is.  Will  you  excuse 
me  while  I  prepare  the  room?  Ah,  sir,  it  will 
make  me  very  happy  to  know  that  you  are  sleep- 
ing under  this  roof  to-night  —  very  happy  indeed, 
Mr.  John." 

He  left  the  room  with  all  haste,  as  though  he 
feared,  if  he  hesitated,  his  guest  might  change 
his  mind,  and  yet  insist  upon  departing. 

When  Ashton  was  alone,  the  incidents  of  the 
present  moment  were  speedily  forgotten  in  the 
anguish  of  that  past  from  which  he  could  not 
escape.  The  novelty  of  the  scene  with  Robert 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  79 

had  provided  the  first  opportunity  of  immunity 
from  it  that  had  been  permitted  him  during  all 
that  long  and  almost  endless  year,  and  of  all  the 
days  that  it  had  contained  the  one  just  passed 
had  been  the  bitterest  and  most  drear. 

The  very  moment  that  found  him  alone  again 
with  his  own  thoughts,  however,  reinvoked  the 
spectres  that  haunted  him  by  day,  that  dwelt 
with  him  by  night,  that  travelled  before,  behind 
and  on  either  side  of  him,  wheresoever  he  went  — 
the  ghosts  of  memory,  of  regret  and  of  despair. 
He  forgot  that  there  had  ever  been  such  a  per- 
sonage as  Lord  John  Makepeace  Hertford,  the 
Earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford;  he  forgot  that 
there  was  a  countess,  that  there  was  a  Robert, 
and  that  he  was  at  that  moment  strangely  and 
inexplicably  installed  in  the  residence  of  a  peer 
of  England,  an  unbidden  if  not  an  unwelcome 
guest.  Memory  conjured  up  before  him  the 
wrath  of  Hope  Hollister  as  she  had  appeared  at 
that  terrible  moment  when  he  had  bidden  her 
good  by  for  ever;  regret  leered  at  him  across  the 
chasm  that  his  own  act  had  dug  between  them 
before  that  last  meeting,  and  jeered  at  him  from 
the  grave  of  Hope's  father,  filled,  as  he  believed, 
by  his  own  impetuous  act ;  despair  gnawed  at  his 
vitals  and  seared  his  heart  with  the  hot  irons 
of  inquisitory  reproof,  and  there  was  no  joy  in  him. 


80      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

When  Robert  departed  from  the  room,  it  was 
as  if  he  had  carried  the  light  with  him,  and  so 
left  Ashton  in  total  darkness,  and  he  sat  there, 
plunged  in  blackness,  with  his  head  bowed 
upon  his  hands,  again  utterly  and  desolately 
alone. 

The  man  who  finds  himself  alone  in  body, 
momentarily  bereft  of  association  with  his  kind, 
experiences  a  pang  of  discomfort  which  is  half 
resentment,  but  which  finds  solace  in  the  resolve 
to  return  to  and  live  again  with  the  associations 
of  the  past ;  the  man  who  is  alone  in  soul,  who  has 
cut  himself  adrift  from  everything  that  is  past, 
who  feels  that  his  solitude  is  greatest  when  surging 
humanity  jostles  him  the  hardest,  is  benumbed. 
He  suffers  as  dumb  brutes  suffer,  silently ;  he  lives 
as  the  leper  lives,  miserably;  and  he  dies  as 
martyrs  have  died,  gladly. 

The  day  at  Greenwich  with  its  whitebait  and 
jugglers  and  all  that  had  succeeded  it,  faded  from 
view.  Only  the  man  remained ;  only  the  solitary 
man. 

Great  men,  like  lofty  mountains,  are  solitary 
because  they  tower  so  high;  but  they  are  sur- 
rounded by  brightness  and  the  world  is  at  their 
feet.  Men  like  John  Ashton  are  unexplored 
caverns  in  the  earth,  and  they  are  solitary  because 
they  have  dived  so  deep;  it  is  the  blackness  of 


A  FUTILE   HOPE  81 

despair  and  the  darkness  of  desolation  which 
surrounds  them.  The  former  is  the  harvest, 
marking  the  fruition  of  accomplished  ambition; 
the  latter  is  the  reaping  of  the  crop  of  renuncia- 
tion. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  if  not  quite  im- 
possible for  a  psychologist  to  have  defined  the 
condition  of  John  Ashton's  mind.  His  grief  was 
not  of  the  poignant  kind  which  groans  in  anguish 
and  conjures  up  pictures  of  the  past  to  reagonize 
remorse  that  has  become  partially  benumbed. 
Such  grief  had  never  been  his,  or  if  it  had,  it  had 
only  touched  him  with  spasmodic  dashes  here  and 
there,  during  the  year  that  had  passed.  Such 
grief  comes  only  to  him  who  has  remaining  some 
glimmer  of  hope  for  the  future,  even  though  it 
be  distant  and  indistinct.  With  John  Ashton, 
hope  was  dead,  and  with  it  had  died  all  things 
of  this  world,  leaving  only  him  alive. 

He  would  have  gone  to  a  dungeon  with  the  same 
indifference  that  he  consented  to  sleep  in  Lord 
John's  bed;  he  would  have  accepted  a  king's 
sceptre  with  the  same  lack  of  appreciation  with 
which  he  had  swallowed  Lord  John's  sherry. 
His  soul  was  ingulfed  in  a  condition  which  may 
be  paradoxically  described  as  intense  indifference 
—  a  condition  more  to  be  dreaded  than  the 
utmost  agony  that  the  physical  being  can  suffer  — 


82      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

a  condition  more  alarming  than  premeditated 
crime  with  its  results. 

He  did  not  hear  Robert  when  the  faithful  old 
man  re  entered  the  room  and  was  not  aware  of 
his  presence  until  he  felt  a  light  touch  upon  one 
of  the  hands  that  covered  his  face,  and  looked 
up  quickly  to  perceive  that  the  old  servant 
was  on  one  knee  beside  him,  gazing  anxiously 
into  his  burning  eyes. 

"  Mr.  John,  what  is  it?  Are  you  suffering? 
Have  I  been  gone  too  long?  "  he  exclaimed. 

11  No,  no!  It  is  nothing,  Robert,  nothing.  I 
was  dreaming,  that  is  all;  dreaming  dreams. 
Ah,  Robert,  you  are  the  first  of  my  kind  who  has 
succeeded  in  calling  me  back  to  my  own  self  for 
a  whole  year,  and  it  did  me  good,  even  though  I 
lapsed  into  my  dreams  again  the  moment  you  left 
me.  Perhaps  if  you  will  love  me  a  little  for  the 
sake  of  that  lost  master  of  yours  whom  I  so  much 
resemble,  I  will  not  dream  so  often.  Ho,  ho, 
Robert!  You  have  made  me  sentimental,  like 
your  old  self;  eh?  Still  I  am  in  earnest  —  in 
deadly  earnest." 

It  appeared  for  a  moment  as  if  Robert  was 
about  to  embrace  him  then  and  there,  but  he 
controlled  the  desire  with  a  visible  effort. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  he  said,  brokenly,  "  if  you  will  let 
me  love  you  for  his  sake  I  will  try  to  be  content. 


A  FUTILE  HOPE  83 

Come,  Mr.  John,  your  room  is  prepared;  I  will 
conduct  you  to  it  at  once.  You  are  very  tired. 
Come,  sir,  you  may  have  forgotten  the  way,  but 
I  will  show  it  to  you." 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   COLLAPSE   AND   A   CONFESSION 

ROBERT  conducted  John  Ashton  to  the  room 
that  he  had  prepared  for  him,  and  having  seen 
that  everything  was  arranged  to  his  satisfaction, 
bestowing  a  lingering  touch  here  and  there,  he 
at  last,  with  marked  hesitation  and  a  wistful 
glance  at  his  guest,  turned  to  leave  the  apartment. 

"  I  will  bring  your  coffee  to  you  in  the  morning, 
just  as  I  used  to  —  just  as  I  used  to  take  it  to 
him,"  he  said. 

"  Very  well,  Robert,  I  will  sleep  till  you  awaken 
me,  then.  Was  this  the  earl's  room?  " 

'  Yes,  sir.  He  always  preferred  it  to  any  other 
in  this  house;  but  he  did  not  remain  much  in 
London;  he  preferred  the  quiet  of  Hertford 
Hall." 

"  Hertford  Hall?    Where  is  that?  " 

"  It  is  the  family  seat,  sir,  in  Hertfordshire.  Is 
there  anything  more  that  I  can  do  for  you,  Mr. 
John? " 

"  Nothing,  Robert,  thank  you.    Good  night." 

84 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      85 

"  Good  night,  sir,  and  God  bless  you.  Good 
night." 

He  passed  out  silently  and  closed  the  door 
behind  him,  leaving  Ashton  standing  in  the  middle 
of  the  room,  fast  lapsing  again  into  that  dreamy 
state  which  was  inevitable  with  him  whenever  he 
was  alone.  It  did  not,  however,  return  with 
its  accustomed  monopolizing  power,  and  there  was 
a  half  smile  upon  his  face  as  he  surveyed  the  room 
in  which  he  was,  by  a  curious  complication  of 
conditions,  at  once  master  and  guest.  And  finally 
with  a  shrug  of  his  broad  shoulders,  he  began  his 
preparations  for  the  night. 

If  he  could  have  followed  the  faithful  servant 
when  he  returned  to  the  room  where  the  inter- 
view had  taken  place,  he  would  have  been  amazed, 
for  no  sooner  had  Robert  entered  it  than  he  locked 
the  door  and  then  dropped  upon  his  knees  and 
sobbed  aloud.  His  kind  old  face  was  buried  in  his 
folded  arms,  where  they  rested  upon  the  chair 
that  Ashton  had  occupied  while  he  smoked  Lord 
John's  cigars  and  drank  Lord  John's  sherry. 

The  old  man  remained  thus  for  many  minutes, 
praying  silently.  Only  God  and  himself  knew 
what  passed  between  them  during  that  half 
hour  through  which  he  never  raised  his  head  or 
moved,  except  as  his  body  trembled  with  the 
emotions  within  him;  but  at  last  he  rose,  and 


86      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

wiping  the  moisture  from  his  eyes,  forced  back 
into  his  possession  that  placid,  imperturbable, 
expressionless  countenance  which  belongs  in  fee 
simple  to  the  well  trained  English  servant. 

He  regarded  himself  critically  in  the  mirror, 
and  at  last  satisfied,  he  left  the  room  and  made 
his  way  along  the  corridor  to  the  front  of  the  house, 
thence  up  the  steps  to  the  second  floor,  and  paused 
finally  before  a  door  upon  which  he  softly  and 
gently  tapped  with  the  ends  of  his  fingers. 

It  was  opened  almost  instantly,  as  though  the 
summons  had  been  anxiously  and  impatiently 
expected,  and  Robert  crossed  the  threshold, 
more  perturbed  in  mind  and  body  than  he  remem- 
bered ever  to  have  been  before. 

"  It  is  very  late,  my  lady,"  he  murmured 
apologetically.  "  My  guest  detained  me  longer 
than  I  anticipated.  I  thought  that  perhaps  you 
had  retired." 

"  And  you  wished  it  also,  Robert  ?  Is  that  what 
your  words  mean?  " 

:'  Yes,  Miss  Mercy.  It  was  thoughtless  in  me 
to  say  that  I  would  return  after  my  —  my  friend 
had  gone;"  and  Robert  turned  his  eyes  away 
from  the  clear,  searching  gaze  that  was  bent 
upon  him. 

He  had  decided  that  it  would  be  best  to  deceive 
his  mistress  regarding  what  he  believed  to  be  the 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      87 

truth,  until  he  could  feel  the  ground  more  securely 
beneath  him.  He  believed  that  it  would  be  best 
to  temporize  for  the  present,  until  he  could  study 
more  thoroughly  the  unfortunate  malady  from 
which  his  beloved  Mr.  John  was  suffering;  but 
he  had  underestimated  the  clear  perceptions  of 
his  mistress;  he  had  forgotten  that  during  the 
year  she  had  learned  to  read  his  impassive  face 
as  clearly  as  though  his  thoughts  had  been 
written  there  in  illumined  type. 

"  Who  is  your  guest,  Robert?  Who  is  your  — 
your  friend?  "  she  inquired,  imitating  with  the 
faintest  touch  of  satire  his  hesitation  over  that 
last  word,  and  at  the  same  time  resuming  the 
chair  from  which  she  had  risen  to  admit  him. 

The  old  man  hung  his  head,  dismayed  and 
speechless.  He  had  entered  the  room  firm  in  the 
belief  that  he  could  deceive  Lady  Mercy,  but  at 
the  threshold  he  encountered  two  obstacles,  either 
of  which  was  sufficient  to  render  utterly  impotent 
any  deception  that  he  might  attempt  to  practise. 

He  realized  the  moment  when  she  asked  these 
questions  that  he  had  not  the  power  to  lie  to 
her,  and  moreover,  that  if  the  power  had  been 
given  to  him  then  and  there,  she  would  have 
penetrated  the  veil  of  falsehood  and  demanded  the 
truth.  His  love  for  Lady  Mercy  is  difficult  to 
analyze  and  can  be  comprehended  only  by  those 


88      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

who  have  been  blessed  by  such  a  devotion,  or 
who  have,  like  Robert,  bestowed  it  upon  another. 

She  was  at  once  his  daughter  and  his  mistress, 
his  child  and  his  mother,  his  charge  and  his 
religion.  He  was  her  dependent  and  yet  she  was 
utterly  dependent  upon  him.  He  filled  the  place 
of  father,  mother,  servant,  counsellor  and  friend, 
and  in  all  these  relations  she  possessed  a  twofold 
claim  upon  him,  for  in  addition  to  her  own  per- 
sonality, she  was  the  wife  of  his  idol,  and  she  had 
been  left  to  him  as  a  sacred  trust  and  care. 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  did  not  know 
in  what  words  to  reply  to  her.  If  he  had  dared 
to  raise  his  eyes  to  hers  he  would  have  seen  that 
his  hesitation  had  sent  a  sudden  wave  of  colour 
to  her  face,  to  be  succeeded  the  next  instant  by 
a  death-like  pallor.  Her  eyes  dilated  and  the 
pupils  became  distended  with  suppressed  excite- 
ment, and  her  hands  tightened  their  grasp  upon 
the  arms  of  the  chair  in  which  she  was  seated. 
Otherwise  she  gave  no  outward  sign  of  the  tempest 
of  impatience  and  expectancy  that  was  raging 
within  her. 

Throughout  an  entire  year  she  had  risen  every 
morning  with  the  confident  expectation  that  the 
day  would  bring  Lord  John  back  to  her,  and  she 
had  retired  every  night  with  a  prayer  upon  her 
lips  that  ere  the  hours  of  darkness  had  passed, 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      89 

she  would  be  summoned  from  her  sleep  to  welcome 
him  home. 

With  her  the  expectation  of  his  return  had  been 
more  than  hope ;  it  had  been  certainty.  There  had 
never  been  a  moment  when  she  had  given  away  to 
actual  despair,  and  it  was  that  mental  certainty 
of  his  home-coming  that  had  kept  her  alive,  that 
had  preserved  her  beauty  and  maintained  her 
health. 

She  and  Robert  had  been  of  one  mind  in  this 
respect.  They  had  hoped  alike,  thought  alike, 
prayed  alike,  believed  alike.  Their  perceptions 
had  focused  at  the  same  point,  and  each  time  that 
he  had  returned  from  his  daily  wanderings  in 
search  of  his  master,  there  had  been  little  need 
of  conversation  between  them,  for  his  face  inevi- 
tably told  her  all  that  his  tongue  could  have 
uttered. 

Never  until  to-night  had  a  stranger  been 
admitted  within  the  house.  Never  until  to-night 
had  Robert  broken  from  his  habit  of  passing  an 
interval  of  time  with  her,  between  the  hours  of 
darkness  and  retiring.  Never  until  to-night  had 
he  manifested  the  slightest  reluctance  or  hesita- 
tion in  replying  to  any  question  of  hers ;  and  now 
there  had  been,  or  was,  a  stranger  in  the  house  — 
a  guest  —  a  friend! 

Lady  Mercy  knew  that  something  quite  unusual 


90      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

had  happened;  she  realized  that  Robert  hesi- 
tated to  confida  in  her,  and  although  she  saw  traces 
of  tears  in  his  eyes,  her  delicate  intuition  told 
her  that  they  had  been  tears  of  happiness  rather 
than  of  sorrow;  it  told  her  that  it  was  joy  and 
not  grief  that  he  was  withholding  from  her. 

It  is  a  paradox  of  the  human  organism,  that  an 
expectant  soul  can  await  the  advent  of  joy  with 
much  more  fortitude  and  patience  than  it  can 
withstand  the  silent  approach  of  grief.  If  Robert 
had  good  news  to  impart,  she  could  await  his 
own  pleasure,  and  the  moments  thus  passed  would 
give  her  the  opportunity  which  she  felt  was  quite 
necessary,  to  prepare  herself  for  the  announce- 
ment when  it  came. 

Heaven  and  earth  could  hold  but  one  joy  for 
her  now,  and  hence  it  was  that  she  believed  she 
could  await  with  calmness  the  certain  happiness 
which  Robert  had  brought  to  her  and  which  he 
hesitated  to  give,  fearful  of  the  effect  that  its 
too  sudden  development  might  have  upon  her. 
She  could  wait  —  she  had  waited  a  whole  year  — 
and  while  she  still  waited,  she  resolved,  with 
heroic  strength,  to  prepare  herself. 

"  Who  was  your  guest,  Robert?  "  she  inquired 
again,  presently,  uttering  the  question  softly. 

Still  he  did  not  reply.  He  could  not  lie  to  her; 
he  dared  not  tell  her  the  truth. 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      91 

"  Has  your  guest  departed?  "  she  continued, 
after  another  pause. 

"No,"  replied  Robert,  slowly.  "  He  is  still 
here." 

"  Still  here?  Still  in  this  house?  "  she  demanded 
quickly,  in  great  astonishment. 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Where  is  he?  " 

"  He  has  retired." 

"  Retired?  " 

The  countess  gazed  at  Robert  in  wide-eyed 
amazement.  She  bent  forward  towards  him  and 
for  a  full  minute  remained  silent,  and  then  in  a 
voice  which  had  sunk  almost  to  a  whisper,  yet 
which  was  distinctly  audible,  she  murmured: 

"  Robert,  tell  me  the  name  of  your  guest." 

The  old  servant  raised  his  head  at  last  and  fixed 
his  great  pathetic  eyes  upon  the  face  of  Lady 
Mercy;  and  while  he  gazed  at  her  thus,  she  saw 
two  tears  spring  unbidden  to  his  cheeks  and  roll 
silently  downward;  otherwise  the  expression  of 
his  face  did  not  change ;  and  he  did  not  reply. 

"  Robert,  tell  me  the  name  of  your  guest," 
the  countess  said  again,  speaking  the  words 
automatically,  in  the  same  low  tone,  without 
emphasis,  almost  without  expression. 

"  His  name,  my  lady,  is  John  Ashton." 

She  did  not  move;  for  a  moment  it  seemed  as 


92      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

if  she  did  not  breathe.  Her  hands  still  grasped 
the  arms  of  the  chair;  her  eyes  were  still  fixed 
upon  the  face  of  her  servant,  but  they  seemed  to 
gaze  through  and  beyond  him,  not  at  him.  Her 
attitude  was  as  though  she  had  not  heard  the 
words  he  had  uttered,  or  if  she  had  heard  them, 
did  not  understand.  At  last  she  sighed,  and  with 
that  sigh  all  the  rigidity  left  her,  and  she  sank 
back  into  the  depths  of  the  chair.  Presently  she 
spoke  again. 

"  We  will  both  be  calm,  Robert,"  she  said, 
"  and  presently  you  will  find  the  courage  to  tell 
me  all  there  is  to  tell.  Did  you  meet  him  on  the 
street  while  you  were  out  in  the  early  part  of  the 
evening?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  And  he  —  was  —  an  old  friend  of  yours, 
Robert?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Did  you  address  him  first,  or  —  or  did  he 
speak  to  you?  " 

"  He  did  not  see  me  until  I  spoke  to  him,  Miss 
Mercy." 

"  And  then  —  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  What  then,  Robert?  " 

"  He  —  did  —  not  know  —  old  Robert !  He  — 
didn't  know  —  me!  " 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      93 

The  words  came  out  in  sobbing  gasps,  and  the 
old  man  leaned  his  arms  upon  the  mantel  and  bur- 
ied his  tear-stained  face  between  them.  He  could 
not  utter  another  word,  then.  All  the  pent-up 
emotions  of  interminable  hours  burst  their  bounds 
at  last,  and  he  no  longer  endeavoured  to  restrain 
them.  He  had  borne  the  burden  to  the  point  of 
falling  beneath  it,  and  he  could  sustain  it  no 
longer. 

The  countess  sprang  to  her  feet  the  instant 
that  he  gave  way.  The  paralyzing  effect  of  the 
announcement  not  yet  half  made,  yet  wholly 
understood,  vanished  the  instant  she  realized 
that  the  faithful  old  man  had  given  way,  and 
that  it  devolved  upon  her  to  sustain  him. 

She  hastened  to  his  side,  and  with  her  arms 
around  him  led  him  gently  to  the  chair  she  had 
occupied.  Then,  when  he  was  seated,  she  sank 
upon  one  knee  beside  him  while  with  tender 
force  she  pulled  his  hands  from  his  face  and  held 
them  in  her  own. 

"Dear  Robert!"  she  murmured.  "Dear, 
dear  Robert.  It  has  been  very  hard  for  you  — 
very,  very  hard,  and  through  it  all  you  have  been 
so  brave  and  good  and  gentle.  Hush!  Hush, 
Robert.  You  must  not  give  way  like  this. 
Really,  you  must  not,  Robert.  It  is  nothing  very 
dreadful,  is  it,  Robert,  except  that  he  has 


94      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

forgotten?      He  —  he     is     not  —  not      ill,      or 
wounded? " 

The  old  man  tried  to  speak,  but  he  could  not. 
He  could  only  shake  his  head  in  silent  negation. 
The  countess  patted  his  hands  and  rubbed  them, 
waiting  with  an  eagerness  that  was  maddening, 
for  Robert  to  recover  himself  sufficiently  to  be 
able  to  speak.  It  was  as  though  he  were  a  little 
child  who  had  been  discovered  in  an  act  of  wrong 
doing,  and,  having  been  chided  for  it,  is  overcome 
by  the  emotion  which  all  must  feel  when  forgive- 
ness is  vouchsafed;  and  she  was  the  mother  who 
had  chided  and  forgiven. 

Gradually  he  became  more  quiet,  and  at  last 
Lady  Mercy  ventured  another  question. 

"  Tell  me,  Robert,"  she  said,  "  does  he  look 
well,  or  ill?  Is  he  well,  Robert?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  does  he  look?  Tell  me!  I  cannot  bear 
it  to  wait  much  longer." 

"  He  looks  —  just  as  he  did  —  the  day  he 
went  away,"  came  the  reply,  with  spasmodic 
interruptions.  "  I  was  passing  the  corner  of  St. 
James  Street  and  Piccadilly,  my  lady,  and  I  saw 
him  standing  there.  He  was  looking  at  the  crowd 
without  seeming  to  see  it.  I  watched  him  for 
some  time  before  I  dared  to  speak.  I  went 
around  him;  I  stood  on  either  side  of  him,  first 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      95 

one  side  and  then  the  other,  and  then  directly 
in  front  of  him,  but  although  he  looked  at  me, 
he  did  not  see  me.  I  wanted  to  make  sure  that 
it  was  Mr.  John  before  I  addressed  him.  I  had 
been  looking  for  him  so  long,  that  I  was  afraid 
lest  my  old  eyes  had  played  me  a  trick,  or  that 
my  imagination  had  superseded  my  judgment. 
All  the  same,  Miss  Mercy,  I  was  sure  from  the 
first,  and  the  more  I  looked,  the  surer  I  became; 
and  at  last  I  spoke  to  him." 

"Yes,  Robert,  yes;  go  on.  I  am  listening. 
You  spoke  to  him;  and  then  —  " 
f"  "  Why,  then,  my  lady,  I  am  afraid  I  do  not 
rightly  remember  just  what  I  did  say.  You 
know  I  have  been  thinking  over  what  I  would 
say  to  him  when  we  met,  every  day  since  he  went 
away,  but  I  somehow  forgot  it  all  then.  I  said 
just  what  came  to  me  first,  I  suppose,  but  I 
don't  in  the  least  remember  what  it  was  except 
that  I  called  him  Jack,  just  as  I  used  to  do  when 
he  was  a  boy;  and  then,  my  lady  —  oh,  it  was 
horrible!" 

"  What  was  horrible,  Robert?  " 

"  He  turned  and  looked  at  me  as  if  I  were  a 
perfect  stranger.  There  was  not  a  single  sign 
of  recognition  about  him.  I  do  not  know  all 
that  was  said,  only  that  he  was  sure  that  he  had 
never  seen  me  before.  You  see,  Miss  Mercy,  some 


96      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

accident  must  have  happened  to  him  the  night 
he  went  away  —  some  accident  that  made  him 
forget  who  he  was,  his  name  and  everything 
about  himself.  You  have  heard  of  such  cases, 
my  lady? " 

"  Yes,  Robert.    Yes ;  —  yes !  " 

"  I  discovered  that  at  once,  for  he  was  so 
natural,  and  like  himself  in  every  other  way, 
that  it  was  the  only  manner  in  which  to  account 
for  it.  And  I  was  in  such  terror  every  instant, 
fearing  that  he  would  leave  me.  At  first  I  tried 
to  make  him  remember,  by  reminding  him  that 
I  had  carried  him  in  my  arms  when  he  was  a 
little  lad,  but  that  and  other  things  I  mentioned 
had  no  effect  on  him.  He  told  me  that  I  was  an 
utter  stranger  to  him,  but  he  said  he  believed 
that  I  was  in  earnest  and  that  he  wished  that  he 
could  help  me  to  find  my  master.  That  wish  was 
the  straw  I  seized;  and  then  I  asked  him  if  he 
would  tell  me  his  name." 

Robert  had  by  this  time  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  his  late  emotions,  and  now  he  rose  from 
the  chair  and  returned  to  the  mantel,  where  he 
took  once  more  the  respectful  attitude  of  a 
servant. 

"  He  told  me  that  his  name  was  John  Ashton, 
and  when  I  informed  him  that  my  master  was 
the  Earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford,  it  seemed  for 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      97 

an  instant  to  revive  a  spark  of  memory;  but  it 
was  only  for  an  instant.  The  name  is  the  only 
part  of  his  past  that  he  recollects  at  all,  and  in 
some  strange  way  he  has  accounted  for  it  by 
fixing  in  his  mind  the  belief  that  he  was  named 
for  an  Englishman  who  was  a  friend  of  his  parents ; 
who  was  at  Oxford  with  his  father,  doubtless. 
Think  of  it,  my  lady.  He  told  me  that  his  full 
name  is  John  Cowingford  Ashton.  As  soon  as  I 
heard  him  say  that,  I  felt  sure  that  it  would  be 
only  a  question  of  time  when  his  memory  would 
return  fully.  Don't  you  think  so,  my  lady?  Don't 
you  think  so,  Miss  Mercy?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  Robert.  We  will  make  him  re- 
member; you  and  I  together.  Did  —  did  you 
mention  my  name  to  him,  Robert?  " 

"  Not  yet,  Miss  Mercy ;  not  quite  yet.  It  was 
too  soon.  I  thought  it  best  to  wait.  My  first 
duty  was  to  get  him  home." 

"  How  did  you  do  that,  Robert?  Ah!  Suppose 
you  had  failed!  " 

"  I  did  not  fail,  my  lady.  He  had  said  that  he 
would  like  to  help  me  to  find  my  lost  master,  and 
I  asked  him  to  come  here  where  I  could  tell  him 
all  about  it,  so  that  he  could  give  me  his  advice. 
At  first  he  said  he  would  come  to-morrow,  but  I 
did  not  dare  let  him  out  of  my  sight,  and  at  last  I 
prevailed  upon  him  to  enter  a  cab  and  come  here. 


98      A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

I  tell  you,  Miss  Mercy,  I  could  have  leaped  for 
joy  when  at  last  I  had  him  comfortably  seated 
beside  the  grate  in  my  room,  wearing  his  own 
jacket  and  slippers,  with  a  glass  of  sherry  beside 
him  and  a  cigar  between  his  fingers,  looking  for 
all  the  world  as  though  he  had  not  been  away 
at  all.  He  was  hungry  and  tired,  and  I  prepared 
some  supper  for  him.  It  would  have  done  your 
heart  good  to  have  seen  him  eat,  and  to  have  seen 
him  smoke,  too,  after  he  had  eaten.  You  remem- 
ber what  a  smoker  he  always  was,  Miss  Mercy?  " 

"I  remember  —  everything,  Robert." 

"  He  did  not  like  it,  though,  because  I  kept 
calling  him  my  lord.  It  made  him  angry,  and 
twice  he  came  very  near  leaving  the  house  on 
account  of  it.  I  think,  really,  though,  that  it 
amused  him  more  than  it  angered  him,  and  that 
he  objected  more  on  my  account  than  on  his  own. 
He  actually  thought  I  was  a  little  queer  in  my 
head,  and  he  did  not  approve  of  my  deceiving 
myself  in  that  way.  You  know  that  Mr.  John 
always  thought  more  about  the  feelings  of  other 
people  than  of  his  own.  Why,  Miss  Mercy,  there 
is  only  one  change  — one  little  bit  of  change 
that  I  can  discover  at  all;  just  one  and  it  is 
hardly  noticeable." 

"  What  is  it,  Robert?  " 

"  His  manner  of  speaking.    The  voice  is  the 


COLLAPSE  AND  CONFESSION      99 

same;  perhaps  a  trifle  deeper,  but  that  can  be 
accounted  for  by  exposure;  but  his  manner  of 
speaking  is  just  a  little  different.  I  should  say 
that  during  the  year  he  has  been  away,  he  has 
been  in  America,  or  Australia,  where  I  am  told 
they  do  not  pronounce  their  words  —  that  is, 
all  of  them  —  just  as  they  do  here,  and  you  know, 
if  the  accident  deprived  him  of  memory,  it 
naturally  must  have  made  him  forget  how  he 
used  to  pronounce  his  words.  He  has  learned  a 
different  way  of  talking  just  as  he  has  learned 
a  different  way  of  thinking ;  and  it  is  not  so  very 
different  either." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  the  countess,  slowly,  "  what 
you  said  to  him  after  he  had  eaten  his  supper. 
Tell  me  what  happened  then." 

"  My  lady,  that  is  the  hard  part  of  it.  That  is 
the  part  that  is  so  difficult  to  tell.  It  is  what  made 
me  hesitate  about  revealing  the  truth  to  you 
when  I  came  into  your  presence  a  little  while 
ago.  You  must  bear  in  mind,  Miss  Mercy,  that 
his  memory  is  entirely  gone,  and  that  in  place  of 
it  there  are  hallucinations  —  strange  and  un- 
accountable hallucinations.  My  lady,  are  you 
strong  enough  to  hear  it  all,  and  do  you  believe 
that  you  can  control  your  emotions  sufficiently 
to  be  patient,  and  to  do  the  hardest  thing  that 
ever  anybody  had  to  do  —  wait?  " 


100    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Yes,  Robert.  I  am  strong  enough.  As  for 
waiting,  have  I  not  waited  with  patience  a  whole 
year,  without  knowing  where  he  was  or  what  he 
was  doing?  Did  you  think  that  my  fortitude 
would  desert  me  now  that  I  do  know  where  he  is 
and  what  he  is  doing?  Yes,  yes!  I  can  wait  and 
watch,  and  help.  Tell  me  what  it  is  you  want  to 
say.  Is  it  that  he  has  forgotten  me?  Is  it  that 
he  has  forgotten  my  very  existence?  Is  it  that 
he  does  not  remember  our  childhood,  our  court- 
ship—  the  wedding  itself?  Is  it  that  he  has 
forgotten  that  he  has  a  wife?  Tell  me,  Robert, 
and  tell  me  plainly.  I  am  strong  enough  to  hear 
it,  and  what  is  more,  I  am  strong  enough  to  help 
you  to  make  him  remember.  Surely  that  is 
enough.  Tell  me  the  worst,  first.  Let  me  hear 
the  best,  last ;  and  then  we  will  consult  together 
and  decide  what  is  best  to  do  for  his  sake.  We 
will  not  consider  ourselves,  Robert;  we  will 
only  think  of  him,  and  of  what  is  best  for  him. 
Tell  me,  Robert;  has  he  forgotten  me,  utterly?  " 
1  Yes,  Miss  Mercy,  he  has  forgotten  you  — 
utterly!  "  was  the  sad  response. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    PORTRAIT   OF    SIR   RODERICK 

THERE  were  several  moments  after  Robert 
replied  to  her  question  during  which  the  countess 
remained  immovable,  with  her  head  bowed  and 
her  hands  resting  idly  upon  the  arms  of  the  chair. 
She  had  said  that  she  was  strong  enough  to  hear 
the  truth,  and  she  was,  but  it  had  come  to  her 
with  a  greater  shock  than  she  had  anticipated. 
There  is  nothing  so  terrible  as  to  be  forgotten 
by  one  who  is  loved.  It  is  the  only  heart  poison 
for  which  there  is  no  antidote;  it  is  the  only 
mental  calamity  for  which  there  is  no  specific. 

"  If  I  could  only  go  to  him  unawares,"  she 
murmured  at  last,  addressing  no  one  and  merely 
voicing  the  thoughts  that  were  uppermost  in  her 
mind.  "  If  I  could  only  approach  him  silently 
while  his  back  was  turned  and  throw  my  arms 
around  him  and  turn  his  face  towards  me  so 
that  he  could  look  into  my  eyes,  he  would  know 
me  then." 

"  No,  no,  my  lady!  "    cried  Robert,  infinitely 
101 


102    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

startled.  "  Such  a  thing  is  not  to  be  thought 
of.  It  would  frighten  him  away.  You  would  undo 
all  that  has  been  done  and  render  us  much  worse 
off  than  we  were  before  he  was  found.  No,  no, 
you  must  not  do  that." 

"  Must  not,  Robert?  " 

"  Must  not,  my  lady.  Pardon  me,  but  it  is 
true.  Listen,  and  I  will  tell  you  why." 

"Well?" 

"  I  thought  at  one  time  as  you  think  now,  that 
he  would  remember  your  face,  and  I  resolved  to 
make  the  test  by  showing  him  a  photograph  of 
you;  but  first  I  deemed  it  best  to  speak  of  you." 

"Yes,  Robert." 

"  I  did  so  in  the  most  commonplace  manner 
that  I  could,  and  on  the  instant  he  leaped  to  his 
feet,  kicked  off  the  slippers,  threw  off  the  smok- 
ing jacket,  and  cried  out,  '  Good  God,  Robert,  is 
there  a  countess? '  What  could  I  do,  Miss  Mercy? 
He  was  for  leaving  the  house  then  and  there, 
insisting  that  he  was  in  a  false  position.  '  Where 
is  she? '  he  demanded.  '  Here  in  this  house? 
You  don't  suppose  I  want  to  be  caught  here 
under  these  circumstances,  do  you? '  He  called 
for  his  hat,  and  I  had  all  I  could  do  to  make  him 
remain.  I  had  to  tell  him  that  you  were  abroad, 
and  that  the  woman  in  the  house  was  a  servant, 
an  invalid  who  never  left  her  room.  I  think  he 


PORTRAIT  OF  SIR  RODERICK   103 

thought  it  might  be  the  housekeeper,  but  it  was 
the  only  way  that  I  could  keep  him.  After  that 
I  induced  him  to  look  at  your  picture.  That 
came  about  quite  naturally,  for  he  first  asked  to 
see  a  photograph  of  himself." 

"  Of  himself!    Did  he  ask  for  it  in  that  way?  " 

"  No,  my  lady,  no.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  a 
picture  of  the  earl,  and  when  I  gave  him  one  to 
look  at,  he  went  to  the  mirror  and  remained  for 
quite  a  time,  looking  first  at  it,  and  then  at  his 
own  reflection  in  the  glass.  I  could  see  that  it 
puzzled  him  mightily,  too." 

"  What  did  he  say?  Did  he  speak  about  the 
likeness?  " 

"  Yes.  He  admitted  that  he  did  not  blame  me 
for  being  deceived,  if  that  was  a  picture  of  the 
earl;  and  then  I  gave  him  your  likeness." 

"Well,  Robert,  well?  Tell  me  what  he  said 
and  did  then,  Robert.  Forget  nothing.  I  want 
to  know  every  look  and  word.  What  then, 
Robert? " 

"  Well,  my  lady,  he  just  looked  at  it,  that  was 
all.  Then  he  said,  in  the  calmest  manner,  that 
you  were  very  beautiful;  but  there  was  not  the 
least  sign  of  recognition  in  his  face.  He  kept 
the  picture  in  his  possession,  though,  and  I 
noticed  that  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  it  very  often 
while  we  talked,  as  though  there  was  something 


104    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

about  it  which  touched  a  chord  of  memory.  I 
have  heard  that  people  afflicted  as  he  is  realize 
that  they  have  forgotten  things,  and  are  ashamed 
of  it,  and  because  they  are,  deny  everything 
which  might  betray  them.  I  thought,  maybe, 
it  was  so  with  him,  and  that  he  was  so  emphatic 
in  his  denial  of  everything  simply  because  he 
could  not  remember  well  enough  to  be  sure. 
Don't  you  think  such  a  thing  is  possible?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,  Robert." 

"  I  am  very  sure  that  I  saw  signs  of  his  re- 
membering things,  when  he  thought  I  did  not 
notice.  But  you  must  not  think  of  permitting 
him  to  see  you  yet,  and  we  must  not  let  him 
suspect  that  you  are  in  the  house.  It  would 
not  do.  It  would  drive  him  away  at  once.  I 
am  sure  of  it." 

Lady  Mercy  sighed  heavily.  With  every  fibre 
trembling  from  suppressed  excitement  —  with 
every  impulse  of  her  soul  straining  upon  the 
leash  which  separated  her  from  her  husband  - 
with  the  intelligence  that  he  was  in  the  same 
house  with  her,  almost  within  reach  of  her  hands, 
and  with  the  certain  knowledge  that  she  must 
not  go  to  him  —  that  he  would  repulse  her  if 
she  did  so,  she  felt  that  the  situation  was  more 
than  she  could  bear. 

"  How  long  will  it  be,  Robert?     How  long  a 


PORTRAIT  OF  SIR  RODERICK   105 

time  do  you  think  it  will  be  before  I  can  go  to 
him?  "   she  murmured,  brokenly. 

The  old  servant  shook  his  head. 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  he  replied.  "  Nobody  can 
tell.  In  a  day  or  two  we  may  be  able  to  approxi- 
mate the  time ;  now,  it  would  be  wrong  to  attempt 
to  do  so.  You  will  listen  to  old  Robert?  You 
will  be  guided  by  me,  Miss  Mercy?  " 

"Yes,"  she  whispered;  and  then  human 
nature  conquered.  She  leaned  forward  upon  the 
arm  of  her  chair  and  wept. 

Robert  was  too  wise  in  his  generation  to  dis- 
turb her,  for  he  knew  that  her  tears  would  do 
more  than  any  argument  he  could  use,  to  con- 
vince her  of  the  wisdom  of  his  advice.  He  waited 
patiently  and  silently  until  the  paroxysm  had 
passed,  and  at  last  she  raised  her  head  and  spoke. 

"  How  did  you  prevail  upon  him  to  remain 
over  night?  "  she  asked. 

"  It  was,  strangely  enough,  not  difficult  to 
do,"  he  replied,  "  although  I  am  of  the  opinion 
that  he  consented  solely  as  a  favour  to  me.  It 
is  true  that  he  started  to  go,  but  the  hour  was 
late  and  he  was  very  tired.  I  put  him  to  bed  in 
Mr.  Jack's  old  room,  and  he  has  consented  to  re- 
main there  until  I  take  him  his  coffee  in  the 
morning.  I  have  dreadful  misgivings,  thpugh,  for 
to-morrow." 


106    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Misgivings?    What  are  they?  " 

"  He  will  wish  to  go  away,  and,  my  lady,  I 
cannot  think  of  any  plan  by  which  I  can  induce 
him  to  remain.  His  conviction  that  he  is  a 
stranger  and  that  he  has  no  right  here,  more 
than  that,  his  firm  belief  that  in  remaining  he 
is  taking  an  ungentlemanly  advantage  of  the  real 
earl,  will,  I  am  sure,  overcome  every  argument 
that  I  can  offer." 

The  countess  bowed  her  head  in  thought.  Pres- 
ently she  raised  it  again,  and  there  was  the 
light  of  confident  knowledge  in  her  eyes. 

"  God,  who  sent  him  back  to  us,"  she  said 
slowly,  "  will  not  permit  him  to  leave  us  again. 
He  will  remain,  Robert.  I  feel  it.  I  know  it. 
There  will  be  a  way  provided  to  detain  him. 
Leave  it  in  the  hands  of  Him  who  directed  your 
footsteps  to  the  spot  where  your  master  awaited 
you.  He  will  wish  to  go  out,  naturally,  but  you 
must  go  with  him.  You  can  find  a  reason  for 
accompanying  him.  You  must  find  one." 

'  Yes,  my  lady.  But  about  his  going  abroad 
before  he  recovers  his  memory.  Have  you 
thought  what  that  may  involve,  Miss  Mercy?  " 

"No;  what  do  you  mean?  " 

"  He  is  sure  to  be  seen  and  recognized  by  some 
of  his  friends.  They  will  address  him  and  he 
will  not  know  them.  Others  will  bow  to  him  — 


PORTRAIT  OF  SIR  RODERICK   107 

ladies,  perhaps  —  and  he  will  not  recognize  them. 
There  will  be  no  end  of  complications  of  all  sorts, 
and  I  tremble,  my  lady,  for  the  task  that  is  before 
me.  I  fear  that  I  am  not  equal  to  it.  I  am  too 
old.  My  perceptions  are  not  keen  enough.  My 
judgment  is  not  always  clear." 

"  That,  also,"  she  replied  reverently,  "  must 
be  left  to  the  will  of  God.  Even  though  such 
things  as  you  suggest  should  happen,  they  are 
mere  incidents,  and  we  need  give  them  no  un- 
necessary concern.  He  has  returned;  that  is 
the  one  great  blessing,  and  the  lesser  ones  will 
come  with  time  if  we  are  patient,  watchful  and 
firm.  But,  Robert,  before  he  goes  out  again,  I 
must  see  him." 

"  My  lady!  Miss  Mercy!  " 

"  I  must  see  him,  Robert,  without  myself 
being  seen.  I  must  see  him,  Robert;  I  must!  " 

"  But  how?  " 

"  Cannot  you  think  of  a  plan?  " 

The  old  man  thought  deeply,  standing  with 
the  ends  of  his  thumbs  and  fingers  together  and 
rocking  forward  and  backward  upon  his  toes  and 
heels,  a  thing  that  he  would  never  have  done 
in  the  presence  of  his  mistress  had  his  mind  been 
less  occupied.  Suddenly  his  face  brightened  and 
he  looked  up  eagerly. 

"  There  is  a  way,"  he  said,  "  an  excellent  way, 


108    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

and  it  can  be  done  without  the  slightest  danger, 
but  I  will  have  to  commit  an  act  of  vandalism 
which  you  may  not  feel  inclined  to  permit." 

"An  act  of  vandalism,  Robert?  I  do  not 
understand." 

"  Do  you  remember,  my  lady,  the  portrait  of 
one  of  the  earl's  ancestors  which  stands  upon  an 
easel  in  one  corner  of  the  library?  The  portrait 
of  Sir  Roderick  of  Hertford,  the  Crusader?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  You  shall  see  Mr.  John  through  the  eyes  of 
the  Crusader,  Miss  Mercy,"  continued  the  old 
man  eagerly,  now  thoroughly  enthused  with  the 
idea.  "  Nothing  could  be  easier.  With  my 
penknife,  I  will  cut  out  the  pupils  of  the  eyes 
in  the  portrait,  —  afterwards,  you  know  I  can 
paste  a  bit  of  black  cloth  against  them  and  the 
defacement  will  not  be  noticeable,  —  then  I  will 
draw  the  easel  a  trifle  closer  in  the  corner,  and 
—  don't  you  understand,  my  lady?  You  will 
get  behind  the  picture.  The  curtains  which 
drape  the  window  will  conceal  you  on  one  side, 
and  the  bookcase  will  effectually  screen  you  on 
the  other,  so  that  he  could  not  by  any  possibility 
see  you,  unless  he  should  make  a  point  of  peering 
behind  the  easel.  He  is  sure  to  look  at  that  por- 
trait long  and  earnestly,  for  he  fairly  worshipped 
it  when  he  was  a  boy.  Why,  even  since  he  became 


PORTRAIT  OF  SIR  RODERICK   109 

a  man,  I  have  seen  him  stand  and  gaze  at  that 
picture  for  minutes  at  a  time.  It  always  seemed 
to  have  some  sort  of  fascination  for  him,  and  when 
he  was  a  little  fellow,  he  used  to  ask  me  the 
strangest  questions  about  it.  It  may  be  that  he 
will  be  angry  when  he  finds  that  I  have  used  my 
penknife  on  his  favourite  picture.  Do  you  think 
he  will,  my  lady?  " 

"  No,  Robert.  When  his  memory  has  returned 
to  him  with  sufficient  force  to  make  him  realize 
what  you  have  done,  he  will  bless  you,  not  blame 
you  for  it.  He  has  often  told  me  about  the 
picture.  When  we  were  children,  we  often 
looked  at  it  together,  and  'I  remember  that  he 
used  to  say  then  that  the  eyes  always  seemed  to 
him  as  if  they  were  in  a  living  person.  Yes,  he 
will  look  at  the  picture,  and  in  doing  so,  he  will 
look  into  my  eyes." 

"  Suppose,  my  lady,  that  he  should  look  at 
it  too  long,  and  that  you  should  give  way  and 
betray  your  presence? " 

"  I  will  not  do  that,  Robert;  never  fear." 

"  I  have  seen  him  stand  for  a  whole  hour  be- 
fore it,  Miss  Mercy.  He  used  to  tell  me  that  when 
anything  troubled  him,  he  went  and  told  it  to 
the  old  earl,  as  he  called  the  portrait,  and  that 
it  always  did  him  good.  Will  you  try  to  rest  now, 
dear  Lady  Mercy?  I  will  go  to  the  library  and 


110    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

prepare  the  portrait,  and  when  it  is  time,  I  will 
call  you  and  assist  you  to  your  place  behind  it. 
Then  I  will  take  Mr.  John  to  the  library,  and  after 
that  —  after  that,  I  am  afraid  I  will  not  have  a 
chance  to  see  you  for  several  hours.  I  fear,  my 
lady,  I  fear  very  much  that  you  will  have  to 
prepare  your  own  luncheon." 

For  the  first  time  since  their  interview  began, 
Lady  Mercy  smiled.  Then  she  glided  forward 
and,  raising  herself  on  tiptoe,  before  Robert 
could  understand  what  she  intended  to  do,  she 
touched  her  lips  to  his  forehead. 

The  old  man  tottered  backwards  as  though  a 
bullet  had  struck  him,  and  his  face  became  fiery 
red,  like  that  of  a  schoolboy  who  has  been  sur- 
reptitiously kissed  by  a  wilful  playmate. 

"  Miss  Mercy,"  he  said,  severely,  "  you  should 
not  have  done  that.  One  would  think  that  you 
were  back  again  in  short  dresses  —  but  I  thank 
you  for  it.  It  is  a  much  greater  reward  than  I 
ever  could  deserve." 

The  countess  did  not  have  an  opportunity  to 
reply,  for  Robert  bowed  with  great  dignity,  and 
left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    IDENTIFICATION   MARK 

WITH  the  advent  of  daylight  Robert  betook 
himself  to  the  library  and  performed  the  work 
of  preparing  it  for  the  silent  interview  that  was 
to  take  place  there,  and  so  firm  was  his  belief 
in  the  righteousness  of  the  deed  that  his  hand 
did  not  tremble  when  he  desecrated  the  old 
portrait  of  that  ancient  and  now  almost  forgotten 
head  of  the  family,  Sir  Roderick  Hertford, 
the  Crusader. 

This  duty  done  and  everything  arranged  to  his 
satisfaction,  his  next  care  was  for  the  countess. 
She  was  aroused  somewhat  earlier  than  usual, 
and  while  he  passed  the  tray  in  at  her  door,  he 
assured  her  that  he  would  summon  her  to  the 
library  in  ample  time  for  her  to  conceal  herself 
before  he  should  conduct  Lord  John  thither  — 
and  then  he  prepared  his  new-found  master's 
breakfast. 

Ashton  was  wide  awake  when  Robert  entered 
the  room,  and  he  regarded  the  old  servant  with 

ill 


112    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

a  quizzical  smile  while  the  latter  was  arranging 
the  tray  on  a  table  beside  the  bed. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  John,"  Robert  said,  on 
entering  the  room  and  perceiving  that  his  guest 
was  not  sleeping. 

He  spoke  with  cheery  brightness.  His  old  face 
beamed  like  the  sunshine  that  gladdened  the 
world  outside,  and  there  was  a  confidence  in 
his  manner  that  had  been  utterly  wanting  at  their 
last  interview. 

"  Good  morning,  Robert,"  responded  Ashton. 
"  You  look  as  though  the  sunlight  of  a  new  day 
had  burned  away  all  the  fog  that  clouded  your 
brain  last  night.  I  hope  it  has." 

:<  Yes,  sir.  It  has,  quite.  There  isn't  a  bit 
of  fog  there  now." 

"  Well,  that's  comforting,  surely.  What  have 
we  here?  " 

'  Two  boiled  eggs,  a  bit  of  toast  and  a  cup  of 
coffee,  sir.  Did  you  rest  well,  Mr.  John?  Did  you 
sleep  well?  " 

"  Like  a  top." 

'  That  is  good,  very  good.  There  is  nothing 
like  one's  own  bed  for  good  repose,  but,"  he 
added  with  precipitate  haste,  "  good,  healthy 
fatigue  will  induce  sleep  anywhere.  Now,  sir, 
while  you  are  disposing  of  the  contents  of  this 
tray,  I  will  prepare  your  bath,  and  after  that  I 


THE  IDENTIFICATION  MARK    113 

will  shave  you  as  you  have  not  been  shaved  for  a 
year." 

He  turned  away  before  Ashton  could  reply, 
and  the  latter,  half  smiling,  murmured  to  him- 
self: 

"  I  believe  the  old  rascal  is  as  positive  as  ever 
that  I  am  Lord  John,  and  that  now  he  is  playing 
possum,  just  to  put  me  off  my  guard.  There  must 
be  some  way  to  convince  him  of  his  error,  and, 
for  the  old  man's  sake,  I  must  find  it.  The  trouble 
is,  that  everything  I  attempt  seems  to  rivet  his 
faith  the  stronger."  Then  he  attacked  the 
toast,  but  his  mind  continued  on  in  the  same 
strain. 

"  Who,  for  instance,"  he  mused,  "  would  have 
imagined  that  the  slippers  and  jacket  would  fit 
me  so  exactly,  to  say  nothing  of  the  unaccount- 
able likeness  between  the  lost  earl  and  myself? 
If  I  had  not  shaved  off  my  beard  and  moustache, 
Robert  would  never  have  mistaken  me,  for  that 
the  act  did  make  a  great  alteration  in  my  ap- 
pearance, I  have  the  proof  in  the  failure  of  my 
friends  to  recognize  me  that  last  day  I  spent  in 
New  York." 

His  eyes  followed  the  servant  as  he  busied  him- 
self in  the  preparation  of  the  bath,  arranging 
towels  and  cloths,  flesh  brushes  and  the  general 
paraphernalia  of  the  matutinal  plunge ;  and  again 


114    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

he  smiled  to  himself,  for  he  remembered,  suddenly, 
that  there  was  upon  his  body  one  mark  which 
Lord  John  could  not  possibly  have  possessed. 

It  was  on  his  left  breast,  over  that  spot  where 
the  heart  is  popularly  supposed  to  be  located, 
and  it  was  itself  the  ineradicable  evidence  of  an 
unknown  tattooer's  skill,  imprinted  there  before 
the  time  when  he  could  remember,  and  never 
explained  by  his  supposed  uncle,  Henry  Hollister. 
Doubtless  the  people  who  abandoned  him  as  an 
infant  before  the  banker's  door  had  marked  him 
for  recognition. 

At  all  events  it  was  there,  faint  now,  from  the 
wear  of  time,  and  by  reason  of  the  growth  and 
expansion  of  the  cuticle,  but  nevertheless  dis- 
cernible. 

"  That  will  convince  him  as  nothing  else  could," 
thought  Ashton  as  he  leaped  from  the  bed  and 
plunged  into  the  bath  that  Robert  had  prepared. 

"  Robert,"  he  called,  when  his  skin  was  glow- 
ing from  the  application  of  the  rough  towels, 
"  come  here." 

"  I  want  you  to  look  at  this  mark  on  my 
breast.  What  is  it,  Robert?  " 

"  A  heart,  sir." 

'That  is  right;  a  heart.  Did  you  ever  see 
that  before,  Robert?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  often." 


THE  IDENTIFICATION  MARK    115 

"What?" 

"  Hundreds  of  times,  sir." 

"  The  devil  you  did!  By  the  lord  Harry,  old 
man,  you  make  me  think  that  you  are  either  a 
hopeless  lunatic,  a  blithering  idiot,  or  a  damned 
old  rascal.  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  Lord 
John  had  a  mark  like  that  on  his  breast?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  precisely  like  it." 

Ashton  could  only  stare  at  the  servant  in 
amazement,  and  the  latter,  perceiving  his  ad- 
vantage, was  not  loath  to  make  the  most  of 
it. 

"  Don't  you  remember,  Mr.  Jack,  how  you 
used  to  ask  me  about  that  mark  when  you  were  a 
boy,  and  how  we  used  to  wonder  how  it  came 
there?  Neither  your  father  nor  your  mother 
would  ever  tell  you  anything  about  it,  and  once, 
sir,  when  you  begged  me  to  do  so,  I  made  bold  to 
ask  the  old  earl,  and  he  came  mighty  near  sending 
me  away  for  it;  don't  you  remember  that?  " 

"  No.  I'm  blessed  if  I  do.  Go  on;  what  more 
have  you  got  to  say  about  it?  Let  it  all  out  now, 
for  you'll  never  have  another  chance." 

"  Why,  there  isn't  anything  more  to  say,  sir, 
unless  it  is  that  the  mark  has  faded  somewhat 
more  than  I  should  have  thought  it  would  in  one 
year.  Still,  I  suppose  you  have  been  travelling 
in  a  different  climate,  and  that  may  have  had 


116    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

something  to  do  with  it.  Don't  you  think  so, 
sir?" 

"  Oh,  undoubtedly!  "  exclaimed  Ashton  with 
bitter  irony.  "  Look  here,  Robert,  there  is 
surely  something  wrong  about  that  cranium  of 
yours.  I  am  strongly  of  the  opinion  that  you 
have  got  the  worst  kind  of  wheels  in  it,  and  every 
one  of  them  is  going  the  wrong  way." 

"  Wheels,  sir?  " 

"  Yes,  wheels.  That  is  an  Americanism, 
Robert,  and  I  am  an  American.  Do  you  under- 
stand that?  " 

"  I  supposed  that  you  had  been  in  America  or 
Australia,  sir,  from  your  manner  of  speaking.  I 
guessed  that,  sir." 

"  Oh,  you  did!  Well,  you  are  the  champion 
guesser  of  two  continents,  I'll  admit  that.  Do 
you  insist  that  your  lost  earl  had  a  mark  like 
that  on  his  breast?  " 

"  Precisely  like  it,  sir." 

"  Can  you  prove  it?  " 

"  Easily,  sir." 

"  How? " 

"  By  a  letter  you  wrote  to  me  when  —  " 

"  By  a  letter  that  I  wrote  to  you!  " 

"  By  a  letter  that  you  wrote  to  me  when  you 
were  at  Hertford  Hall  at  the  time  when  I  asked 
your  father  about  it,"  continued  Robert  firmly,  for 


THE  IDENTIFICATION  MARK    117 

the  old  man  had  taken  the  bit  in  his  teeth  at 
last,  and  he  refused  to  compromise  with  what  he 
believed  to  be  the  truth. 

He  saw,  or  thought  he  saw  the  advantage  he 
had  gained,  and  he  determined  to  make  the 
most  of  it  before  the  opportunity  was  gone.  He 
had  been  compelled,  up  to  that  moment,  to  ad- 
minister only  homoeopathic  doses  of  memory  to 
the  strangely  afflicted  earl,  but  now  he  meant  to 
give  him  the  genuine  article  to  swallow. 

"  You  had  urged  me  so  many  times  to  ask  your 
father  about  it,"  he  went  on,  "  that  I  finally  did 
so,  and  then,  according  to  promise,  I  wrote  to 
you  of  my  failure,  telling  you  that  the  old  earl 
very  nearly  dismissed  me  for  my  impertinence. 
You  wrote  a  letter  back,  thanking  me,  and  assur- 
ing me  that  you  would  make  it  all  right  with  your 
father,  and  that  you  would  take  all  the  blame. 
I  have  that  letter,  sir,  as  I  have  all  that  you  ever 
wrote  to  me,  and  I  can  find  it  in  ten  min- 
utes.," 

"  Humph!  Well,  you  trot  right  down  stairs 
and  find  it,  then,  while  I  am  getting  into  my 
clothes.  I'd  like  to  see  that  letter,  for  upon  my 
soul,  I  don't  believe  that  you  possess  such  a 
document.  After  that,  I'll  bid  you  good  morning, 
for  it  is  utterly  abhorrent  to  every  principle  of 
my  nature  for  me  to  remain  here  and  even  pas- 


118    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

sively  become  a  party  to  the  deception  that  you 
are  determined  to  practise  upon  yourself." 

"  Oh,  sir,  —  oh,  Mr.  John  —  " 

"  Stop!  Not  another  word.  I  won't  have  it! 
I  warned  you  last  night,  but  the  warning  seems 
to  have  done  no  good.  I  will  not  repeat  it,  nor 
will  I  give  you  the  chance  to  err  again. 

"  Go  and  get  that  letter." 

"Yes,  sir;  yes,  sir.  I  will  get  it;"  and  with 
ashen  face  the  old  man  tottered  from  the  room. 

"  This  certainly  beats  everything  I  ever  heard 
of  or  read  about,"  said  Ashton  aloud  when  he  was 
again  alone;  and  then,  while  he  busied  himself 
in  dressing,  he  continued  to  think  upon  the  laby- 
rinth of  coincidence  apparently  conspiring  to 
force  him  to  accept  a  false  position. 

The're  was  the  unaccountable  coincidence  of 
likeness  between  the  lost  earl  and  himself,  which 
nobody,  himself  included,  could  deny.  There 
was  the  coincidence  of  names;  on  the  one  hand, 
the  earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford,  and  on  the 
other,  John  Cowingford  Ashton.  There  was  the 
same  physique  and  doubtless  the  same  voice, 
for  a  change  in  voice  is  more  quickly  discern- 
ible than  any  other  attribute  of  man;  and 
last,  there  was  the  coincidence  of  the  tattooed 
heart  on  the  left  breast,  and  if  Robert  was  right 
and  did  possess  the  letter  to  which  he  had  re- 


THE  IDENTIFICATION  MARK    119 

ferred,  the  old  man  could  scarcely  be  condemned 
for  the  opinion  he  had  formed  regarding  the 
identity  of  his  guest.  Ashton  realized  that  fully, 
but  he  was  determined  that  he  would  put  a  stop  to  it. 

How  to  account  for  these  coincidences  was 
entirely  beyond  the  subject  of  them.  It  is  true 
that  he  was  a  foundling,  and  the  suggestion  was 
pertinent  that  it  might  develop  that  he  was 
related  to  the  missing  earl.  He  might  be  a 
cousin,  or  even  a  twin  brother,  since  it  was  shown 
that  their  ages  were  practically  the  same,  and 
might  be  exactly  so  for  all  that  Ashton  could 
tell,  but  opposed  to  such  a  theory  was  the  un- 
deniable fact  that  one  was  born  and  had  always 
lived  in  England,  while  the  other  was  found  on  a 
doorstep  in  the  city  of  New  York. 

The  name  might  easily  be  accounted  for  by  the 
statement  of  Henry  Hollister  that  he  had  named 
the  foundling  for  a  college  associate,  and  that 
friend  might  possibly  have  been  the  father  of  the 
missing  earl,  only  in  that  case  the  name  would 
more  likely  have  been  Hertford. 

John  Ashton  shook  his  head  in  deep  perplexity. 
He  was  only  clear  about  one  thing,  and  that  was 
that  he  would  get  away  from  the  complication 
before  old  Robert  could  work  himself  any  deeper 
into  the  mire  of  credulity;  and  just  as  he  arrived 
at  that  decision  Robert  returned. 


120    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Here  it  is,  sir,"  he  said,  extending  a  letter 
which  Ashton  received  and  read  to  the  last  word. 
Then  he  replaced  it  in  the  envelope  and  returned 
it. 

"  Very  good,"  he  said  calmly.  "  I  am  con- 
vinced that  you  spoke  the  truth  and  I  owe  you  an 
apology  for  doubting  you,  Robert.  Now  I  wish 
to  ask  you  a  few  questions." 

"  Yes,  sir.    I  will  reply  to  them  if  I  can." 

"  Did  Lord  John  ever  have  a  brother?  " 

"  No,  sir,  he  was  an  only  child." 

"  You  are  sure  of  that,  Robert?  " 

"  Positive,  sir;  I  have  been  in  the  family  all 
my  life  —  ever  since  his  father  was  a  lad." 

"  Did  he  have  a  cousin  —  a  male  cousin,  or  a 
near  relative  who  was  stolen  while  he  was  a 
babe?  I  mean  one  about  his  own  age,  or,  in  fact, 
any  age  at  all?  " 

"  No,  sir,  never." 

1  You  would  be  likely  to  know  about  it  if  such 
a  thing  had  occurred  in  the  family?  " 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  would  know  about  it." 

"  Why  are  you  so  sure  about  it?  " 

"  Because  I  have  been  in  the  family  so  long, 
sir,  and  because  the  family  has  never  been  a 
large  one.  Mr.  Richard  Hertford  is  the  nearest 
relative  that  my  master  ever  had  with  the  ex- 
ception of  his  own  parents." 


THE  IDENTIFICATION  MARK    121 

"  Where  was  Lord  John  born?  " 

"  At  Hertford  Hall." 

"  Were  you  there  at  the  time?  " 

"  Not  exactly,  sir.  I  was  with  his  father,  here 
in  London.  We  were  telegraphed  for,  and  went 
down  on  the  afternoon  train.  Lord  John  was 
born  at  two  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  arrived 
there  at  seven  in  the  evening.  I  remember  it  as 
well  as  though  it  were  yesterday,  sir." 

"  Humph!  Your  statement  seems  to  be  un- 
answerable, Robert.  You  ought  to  know." 

"  I  do  know,  sir." 

Ashton  was  silent.  He  believed  that  under  the 
circumstances  it  would  be  little  less  than  a 
downright  act  of  cruelty  for  him  to  go  away  with- 
out first  dispelling  the  delusion  in  Robert's  mind, 
and  he  was  now  convinced  that  the  old  servant 
was  genuinely  deceived. 

Again,  there  was  the  countess.  Robert  had 
said  that  she  was  travelling  abroad.  Ere  long 
she  would  return  to  be  met  by  Robert's  statement 
that  the  earl  was  surely  alive,  had  been  at  home, 
and  had  gone  away  again,  he  could  not  tell 
whither;  and  the  countess,  possibly  on  the  point 
of  forming  new  ties,  or  at  least  partly  recovered 
from  the  effects  of  her  loss,  would  be  cast  into  a 
new  slough  of  despondency,  infinitely  worse  than 
the  first. 


122    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Robert,"  he  said  presently,  "  I  wish  to  have 
a  real,  downright,  sensible  talk  with  you." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  And  I  want  you  to  reply  to  me  with  perfect 
truth." 

"  I  will  do  so,  sir." 

"  You  must  neither  equivocate  nor  temporize. 
The  time  is  past  for  that,  now." 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"  Do  you  really  believe  that  I  am  the  Earl  of 
Ashton  and  Cowingford?  " 

"  I  do,  sir." 

"  Does  it  amount  to  more  than  mere  belief? 
Are  you,  in  your  own  mind,  certain  of  it?  " 

"  I  am,  sir." 

"  Since  when,  Robert?  " 

"  Since  the  first  moment  that  I  saw  you." 

"  Has  nothing  happened  since  that  moment 
to  shake  your  faith?  " 

"  No,  sir,  nothing." 

11  Not  even  my  own  positive  denial?  " 

"  Not  even  that,  sir." 

"  Well,  that  is  cool  to  say  the  least.  Let  us 
begin  now  on  the  supposition  that  I  am  the  lost 
Lord  John;  what  object  would  I  have  in  denying 
it?" 

"  Only  your  own  conviction,  sir.  I  believe  that 
you  are  sincere  in  denying  it.  I  believe  that  you 


THE  IDENTIFICATION  MARK   123 

think  you  are  some  other  person  —  that  you  have 
forgotten  who  you  really  are." 

"  Well,  by  Jove!  "  exclaimed  Ashton,  aghast 
at  the  spectacle  that  Robert  had  created.  Then, 
with  sudden  sadness,  he  added:  "  I  wish  to  God 
I  could  forget  who  I  really  am." 

"  And  I,  sir,  wish  to  God,  with  all  my  heart, 
that  you  could  remember  who  you  really  are," 
Robert  responded.  "  Try,  sir,  try!  Did  not  the 
picture  of  Lady  Mercy  compel  some  responsive 
memory  in  your  heart?  I  thought  that  I  saw  it 
there  when  you  looked  at  the  photograph." 

"  Hush,  Robert.  Can  you  not  understand  how 
preposterous  your  belief  is?  If  I  were  the  earl, 
how  could  I  have  forgotten  it?  " 

"  By  reason  of  some  accident,  sir,  or  a  severe 
illness.  It  would  not  be  the  first  case  of  the  kind. 
Men  have  met  with  accidents  which  have  de- 
prived them  of  memory  and  made  them  forget 
the  past." 

"  But  I  do  not  forget  the  past,  my  good  man. 
God  Almighty  knows  that  I  remember  it  only  too 
well  —  that  I  would  leap  for  joy  if  I  could  erase 
every  recollection  of  it  from  my  mind  for  ever. 
Good  heavens,  do  you  suppose  that  I  would 
hesitate  one  instant  between  the  misery  of  that 
past  and  the  promised  joys  of  this  present,  if 
there  were  any  doubts  concerning  the  truth? 


124    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

If  I  were  John  Hertford,  do  you  think  I  would 
deny  it  to  you?  Was  there,  could  there  have 
been  any  cause  that  you  have  kept  back  from  me 
which  could  have  induced  your  master  to  leave 
home  of  his  own  accord?  " 

"  Not  one." 

"  Is  there  no  way  by  which  I  can  convince  you 
of  your  error,  Robert?  It  must  be  done." 

"  I  am  sure,  sir,  that  there  is  not." 

"  Well,  for  downright  obstinacy,  you  are  head 
and  shoulders  over  anything  I  ever  saw.  Can't 
you  think  of  some  test  that  we  might  apply,  that 
would  convince  you?  Was  there  no  other  mark 
upon  me  besides  that  confounded  tattoo  busi- 
ness? " 

14  Not  that  I  remember,  sir." 

"  I  am  bound  to  convince  you,  somehow,  Robert, 
for  I  will  not  remain  here  and  permit  you  to  live 
under  any  such  hallucination.  I  shall  leave 
England  to-morrow,  but  before  I  go,  you  must 
be  convinced." 

"  Oh,  sir,"  cried  Robert,  "  you  will  not  leave 
England!  Ill  die  if  you  do  that." 

'Yes,  I  shall  leave  England;  consider  that 
settled." 

The  announcement  was  too  much  for  the  old 
man.  He  sank  upon  a  chair  and  sobbed  aloud, 
and  Ashton,  after  regarding  him  a  moment  with 


THE   IDENTIFICATION  MARK    125 

consternation  and  deep  contrition  in  his  face, 
added: 

"  Tut,  tut,  Robert.  None  of  that.  Stand  up 
and  listen  to  me.  There,  that  is  better,  old  chap. 
You  make  me  feel  like  an  infernal  scoundrel  — 
as  though,  somehow,  I  hadn't  any  right  to  assert 
my  own  identity.  Would  you  know  the  hand- 
writing of  Lord  John,  if  you  should  see  it?  " 

"  Indeed  I  would,  sir." 

"  Then  get  me  pen,  ink  and  paper.  You  shall 
see  some  that  is  not  his." 

"  Yes,  sir.  We  will  go  to  the  •  library,  sir,  if 
you  will  wait  a  moment  here  until  I  return.  I 
will  be  gone  only  a  few  moments." 


CHAPTER  IX 

BEHIND   THE   PORTRAIT 

ASHTON  was  rather  startled  by  the  precipitate 
haste  with  which  Robert  left  the  room,  but  he 
attributed  it  to  his  desire  to  compose  himself 
before  that  test  of  handwriting,  which  Ashton 
intended  should  be  final,  was  tried. 

There  was,  indeed,  some  truth  in  the  conjecture, 
for  the  faithful  old  man  did  wish  to  compose  his 
countenance  before  going  into  the  presence  of 
Lady  Mercy,  who  he  knew  was  impatiently 
awaiting  the  summons  to  the  library  where  from 
behind  the  screen  offered  by  the  portrait  of  the 
crusader  she  could  look  again  upon  the  face  and 
form  of  the  man  she  loved. 

She  instantly  detected,  however,  the  pertur- 
bation depicted  upon  Robert's  countenance. 

"  What  is  it,  Robert?  What  has  happened?  " 
she  demanded,  the  moment  he  made  his  appear- 
ance. 

"  He  is  determined  to  leave  us,  Miss  Mercy," 
sobbed  the  old  man.  "He  is  going  away,  and 

126 


BEHIND  THE   PORTRAIT         127 

to-morrow  he  says  he  will  leave  England.  What 
shall  we  do?  What  can  we  do?  " 

"  He  must  be  prevented  from  going.  There 
will  be  a  way,  Robert.  Wait  until  I  have  seen 
him.  There  will  be  time  enough  after  that. 
Are  you  ready  to  take  me  to  the  library?  " 

"  Yes,  my  lady." 

"  Come,  then." 

She  went  past  him,  through  the  open  doorway, 
and  on  down  the  stairs  so  rapidly  that  he  found 
it  difficult  to  keep  pace  with  her.  Her  own  hands 
seized  the  easel  against  which  the  portrait  rested, 
but  she  was  not  strong  enough  to  move  it  from 
its  place.  It  was  Robert  who  did  that,  and  when 
she  had  passed  behind  it  and  applied  her  eyes  to 
the  holes  that  Robert's  penknife  had  made,  he 
moved  it  back  again  so  that  she  was  effectually 
a  prisoner. 

"  Can  you  see  around  the  room?  "  he  asked 
when  everything  was  adjusted. 

"  Perfectly.  Do  you  think  it  will  be  possible 
for  him  to  detect  me  here?  " 

"  No,  my  lady,  I  do  not.  It  is  barely  possible 
for  me  to  discover  the  defect,  and  I  know  that  it 
is  there.  He,  not  knowing  it,  will  never  suspect 
your  presence.  Do  you  think  you  will  be  able 
to  retain  your  composure?  " 

"  Yes,  Robert." 


128    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  No  matter  what  he  says  or  does?  " 

"Yes;  I  will  not  give  way.  Go,  Robert,  go; 
he  is  waiting." 

"  One  moment,  and  I  will  go,"  he  replied. 
Then  with  deft  fingers  he  placed  writing  materials 
upon  the  table,  arranged  the  curtains  to  suit 
him,  and  hastened  back  to  the  room  where  he 
had  left  his  guest. 

"  Come,  sir,"  he  said.  "  I  will  take  you  to  the 
library  now,  if  you  please." 

Ashton  did  not  reply.  He  followed  his  con- 
ductor in  silence  along  the  hall  and  down  the 
stairs  to  the  library  door,  passed  inside  and 
paused. 

The  portrait  of  Sir  Roderick  was  in  the  corner 
directly  opposite  the  point  where  he  entered  the 
room.  It  was  a  striking  picture;  one  that  would 
have  claimed  attention  anywhere,  particularly 
the  attention  of  one  as  fond  of  art  as  John  Ashton, 
and  he  experienced  an  uncanny  feeling  as  his 
gaze  encountered  the  eyes  of  the  portrait  which 
were  fixed  upon  him  as  though  the  stern  old 
warrior  did  not  entirely  approve  of  his  intrusion. 

"Whom  does  that  portrait  represent?  One 
of  the  family  ancestors?  "  he  inquired. 

'That  is  Sir  Roderick,  sir;  the  portrait  you 
used  to  love  so  dearly.  Look  closer,  sir.  You 
will  remember  it." 


BEHIND  THE  PORTRAIT        129 

"  Confound  you,  Robert.  If  I  were  not  so 
sorry  for  you  I  would  be  angry." 

"  Will  you  not  look  at  the  portrait  more 
closely,  sir?  "  asked  Robert  unmoved. 

"  Not  now.  After  we  have  tried  that  hand- 
writing, I  will.  Where  are  the  materials?  Ah, 
here  they  are.  What  shall  I  write?  " 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  dictate  it,  sir?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  The  last  letter  that  I  received  from  you,  sir, 
read  something  like  this,"  said  the  old  man, 
calmly,  determined  that,  inasmuch  as  he  had  now 
boldly  asserted  his  unfaltering  belief,  he  would 
adhere  to  it  in  public  as  well  as  in  private.  "  Are 
you  ready?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  '  Robert  Smithson  '  —  never  mind  the  ad- 
dress — '  Send  Powers  to  the  station  at  9.45  ' 
—  9.45  in  figures,  sir  —  '  to-morrow  morning. 
He  should  bring  the  carriage  as  I  shall  have  a 
friend  or  two  with  me.'  That  is  all,  sir." 

"  How  did  he  sign  it?  "  asked  Ashton,  pausing 
with  uplifted  pen,  when  the  short  note  was 
finished. 

'  Just  '  Hertford,'  sir.  Sometimes  you  signed 
John  Hertford,  to  checks  and  things  of  that 
sort,  but  never  Ashton,  or  Cowingford.  You 
always  preferred  to  use  the  family  name.  Your 


130     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

letters  to  me  were  always  signed  with  the  one 
name." 

"  Oh,  they  were,  eh?  Well,  there  it  is.  Now 
take  a  look  at  it,  and  it  may  be  that  you  will  be 
convinced  of  your  folly." 

He  threw  down  the  pen,  and,  rising,  crossed  the 
room  until  he  stood  before  the  portrait  behind 
which  Lady  Mercy  was  concealed,  and  Robert, 
who  took  two  or  three  steps  toward  the  table  to 
comply  with  the  request,  noticing  what  he  had 
done,  stopped  suddenly,  too  deeply  concerned 
over  the  possible  discovery  of  the  presence  of  the 
countess  to  care  to  inspect  the  handwriting  which 
he  was  already  convinced  did  not  need  inspection, 
and  so  fearful  that  his  mistress  might  do  some- 
thing to  betray  her  presence,  that  instantly  he 
forgot  everything  except  her  purpose  in  coming 
to  the  library. 

Ashton,  in  his  turn,  forgot  what  Robert  was 
supposed  to  be  doing  in  the  unaccountable  fas- 
cination he  felt  for  the  portrait.  He  remained, 
several  moments,  motionless,  regarding  it  steadily, 
feeling,  with  a  tingling  sense  of  uncanniness, 
that  the  gaze  was  returned. 

He  was  vaguely  conscious  of  an  inexplicable 
attraction  towards  the  likeness  of  the  man  who 
had  rested  so  many  centuries  in  the  grave,  and 
he  experienced  an  indefinable  wish  that  he  could 


BEHIND  THE  PORTRAIT        131 

change  places  with  the  knight  who  looked  down 
upon  him  with  a  glance  as  bold  as  any  with  which 
he  had  met  the  infidel  Saracen  on  his  native 
deserts.  Twice  he  attempted  to  turn  away,  only 
to  discover  that  the  portrait  drew  his  eyes  to 
the  pictured  face  with  an  irresistible  attraction. 

Presently  he  turned  his  gaze  upon  other  paint- 
ings in  the  room,  only  to  find  that  the  eyes  of 
Sir  Roderick  gleamed  upon  him  from  each,  and 
that  the  countenance  of  the  warrior  was  drawn 
in  the  sunsets,  in  the  landscapes,  among  the 
trees,  and  in  the  portraits  of  every  work  of  art 
with  which  the  walls  were  decorated. 

Robert,  in  the  meantime,  had  approached 
within  a  few  feet  of  his  supposed  master,  and 
standing  directly  behind  him,  physically  para- 
lyzed by  suppressed  excitement,  awaited  the 
result.  His  fingers  were  interlocked  and  each 
hand  strained  upon  the  other  with  unrelaxed 
tension,  so  that  the  knuckles  gleamed  brightly 
red,  like  clouded  rubies,  the  veins  in  the  backs 
of  his  hands  became  purple  and  swollen,  and 
contrasted  strangely  with  the  surrounding  pallor. 

His  face  was  as  white  as  the  face  of  a  corpse, 
except  in  two  spots  over  his  eyes,  where  the  blood 
seemed  to  have  collected  its  forces  and  paused, 
held  there  by  the  power  of  the  will  to  assist  the 
visual  organs.  He  had  paused  in  the  act  of 


132    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

stepping.  His  weight  rested  on  the  ball  of  his 
right  foot  while  the  toe  of  the  left  one  seemed 
barely  to  touch  the  carpet.  Had  he  been  one  of 
the  victims  of  Vesuvius  in  the  destruction  of 
Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  overtaken  in  his 
agonizing  flight  by  the  deadly  sulphur  fumes, 
engulfed,  sustained  and  preserved  by  the  flood 
of  ashes  that  followed,  and  recreated  by  modern 
art  as  other  figures  have  been,  anxiety,  terror, 
hope,  doubt,  faith  and  unbelief  could  not  have 
been  more  delicately  depicted.  He  saw  what 
Ashton  could  not  see.  He  knew  what  Ashton  did 
not  know.  He  realized  fully  what  Ashton  only 
sensed,  as  one  experiences  realities  in  dreams, 
that  there  was  life  and  hope  and  love,  light  and 
warmth  and  feeling  in  the  expression  of  the  eyes 
that  looked  down  upon  them  from  the  picture. 

Ashton  saw  only  that  there  was  something 
living  beyond  and  behind  that  painted  canvas; 
he  saw  it  without  belief  or  realization;  he  real- 
ized it  without  sight  or  sense;  he  imagined  all 
that  his  inner  being  revealed  without  trusting 
to  his  imagination ;  he  felt  that  his  pulses  thrilled, 
yet  denied  to  himself  that  they  were  stirred;  he 
breathed  more  deeply  yet  with  shorter  inhala- 
tions, while  he  seemed  not  to  be  breathing  at  all ; 
he  saw  moisture  in  the  depths  of  those  eyes,  and 
wondered  if  a  painter's  art  had  permitted  the 


BEHIND  THE  PORTRAIT         133 

brush  to  depict  a  reality  like  that,  knowing  while 
he  wondered  that  art  had  never  builded  so  high; 
and  then  while  still  attracted  and  repulsed, 
beckoned  and  repelled  as  though  he  were  the 
steel  between  the  positive  and  the  negative 
poles  of  a  magnet,  by  a  strange  paradox,  he  re- 
membered Hope. 

There  was  no  more  likeness  between  the  picture 
and  Hope  Hollister  than  there  might  have  been 
between  the  icebergs  of  the  frozen  north  and  the 
sands  of  blistered  Sahara,  but  still  there  was  the 
thought.  There  was  no  likeness  at  all  between 
Hope  Hollister  and  the  woman  whose  identity 
glowed  behind  the  eyes  of  the  portrait ;  yet,  still, 
there  was  the  thought.  There  was  absolutely 
nothing  in  the  circumstances  or  in  the  sur- 
roundings to  suggest  Hope  Hollister  to  his  mind, 
and  yet  the  thought  came  and  brought  with  it 
an  indescribable  feeling  of  awe  and  a  wave 
of  tenderness  which  at  once  enthralled  and 
attracted  him,  and  he  drew  a  step  nearer  to  the 
canvas. 

With  his  eyes  fixed  intently  upon  the  pupils 
of  those  orbs  that  seemed  to  him  to  beckon  him 
on,  he  paused  again  and  sighed,  raising  his  right 
hand  and  passing  it  methodically  across  his  brow. 

For  the  moment  he  forgot  where  he  was,  for 
across  the  wide  ocean,  among  the  mazes  of  that 


134    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

great  city,  through  the  thick  walls  of  the  house 
and  into  the  room  where  he  stood  leaped  the 
image  of  the  woman  he  had  loved  so  devoutly  — 
whom  he  now  loved  so  despairingly  — whose 
memory  throughout  the  year  of  wandering  had 
been  his  safeguard,  his  mentor,  his  religion. 

"  Hope,  Hope!  "  he  murmured.  "  My  lost 
love.  What  is  it  that  brings  you  before  me  now, 
so  vividly  that  I  can  see  every  lineament  of  your 
dear  face  in  the  grim  visage  of  this  old  warrior? 
What  is  the  magic  of  this  portrait  which  makes 
you  look  at  me  out  of  his  eyes?  What  has  cast 
the  spell  of  your  presence  in  this  room,  strange 
to  me  and  to  you  alike?  Are  you  thinking  of 
me,  my  Hope?  Has  the  past  year  of  separation 
been  as  bitter  to  you  as  it  has  been  to  me?  " 

He  ceased  speaking.  Robert,  not  daring  to 
move,  remained  like  a  graven  image  hoping, 
doubting,  fearing,  wondering. 

There  were  several  moments  of  absolute  silence, 
and  then  with  startling  distinctness,  seemingly 
from  behind  the  picture,  there  came  a  heart- 
breaking sigh. 

Ashton  came  to  himself  with  a  start,  and  he 
turned  instantly  to  Robert. 

"What  was  that?"  he  demanded.  "Who 
made  that  sound?  " 

"  It  was  I,  sir.    I  did  it,"  replied  Robert  with 


BEHIND  THE   PORTRAIT         135 

strange  eagerness.  He  could  lie  for  others,  if 
not  for  himself. 

Still  Ashton  doubted,  while  knowing  that  he 
ought  not  to  doubt  —  while  believing  that  there 
was  no  reason  to  doubt.  He  shook  his  head 
incredulously. 

"  It  came  from  behind  the  picture,"  he  said. 

Robert,  not  knowing  what  to  reply,  said  noth- 
ing. It  was  the  wisest  course  he  could  have  pur- 
sued, and  the  next  moment  Ashton  had  turned 
his  face  once  again  upon  the  portrait  and  was 
once  more  plunged  in  his  own  thoughts. 

It  was  the  appeal  that  he  had  made  to  his 
lost  love  that  had  forced  the  sigh  from  the  count- 
ess, for  she,  like  Robert,  believed  that  he  was 
appealing  to  his  memory  of  her.  The  name  Hope 
was  only  a  word  to  her.  Taken  in  connection 
with  the  words  that  followed,  the  man  who 
uttered  them  was  only  battling  with  forgetful- 
ness  and  hoping  that  the  veil  which  hid  the  past 
from  view  might  be  drawn  aside. 

"  Are  you  thinking  of  me,  my  Hope?  "  he 
had  said.  "  Has  the  past  year  of  separation 
been  as  bitter  to  you  as  it  has  been  to  me?  " 

His  eyes  were  looking  straight  into  hers;  her 
gaze  was  peering  into  the  utmost  depths  of  his 
soul  when  the  words  were  uttered;  is  it  strange 
that  she  sighed? 


136    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

She  saw  all  that  Robert  had  seen ;  she  believed 
all  that  Robert  believed.  The  boy  with  whom 
she  had  played  in  childhood,  the  man  whom  she 
had  loved  and  married  and  from  whom  she  was 
parted  on  her  wedding  day,  stood  before  her,  and 
she  dared  not  make  her  presence  known. 

When  he  turned  to  speak  to  Robert  she  quickly 
brushed  the  tears  from  her  eyes,  so  that  when  he 
looked  again  toward  her  she  believed  that  she 
was  preparing  to  meet  his  glance,  but  she  was  in 
nowise  prepared  for  what  she  saw. 

For  the  first  time  in  all  the  months  that  had 
passed  since  John  Ashton  and  Hope  parted  in  the 
counting-room  of  Henry  Hollister's  bank,  tears 
welled  up  from  his  soul  through  his  eyes  and 
rolled  unheeded  down  his  cheeks.  But  it  was 
only  for  a  moment  that  he  remained  thus,  for 
then  through  his  own  tears  he  saw,  or  fancied 
that  he  saw,  tears  in  the  painted  eyes  of  the 
portrait. 

With  a  quick  gesture  he  dashed  his  own  aside 
and  stepped  eagerly  forward  to  obtain  a  nearer 
view. 

There  was  no  mistake.  There  were  tears  in 
the  eyes  of  that  pictured  face,  and  while  he 
gazed  upon  them  in  amazement,  they  rolled  down 
the  canvas.  Tears!  Real  tears! 

He  looked  again,  bending  forward  still  nearer, 


BEHIND  THE   PORTRAIT         137 

and  then  he  saw  the  eyes  vanish  as  if  by  magic 
while  from  behind  the  easel  he  heard  another  sigh, 
half  sob,  half  moan. 

Instantly  alert,  he  seized  the  painting  by  the 
frame  and  hurled  it  across  the  room,  exposing 
to  full  view  the  exquisite  face  and  quivering  form 
of  Lady  Mercy,  now  utterly  terrorized  by  the 
consciousness  that  her  presence  was  betrayed 
and  that  she  stood  revealed  before  him. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    ONLY   WAY 

THE  anger  which  had  been  his  motive  in  dashing 
the  portrait  aside  was  quelled  the  instant  Ashton 
saw  the  living,  breathing  picture  behind  it.  He 
remained  where  he  was,  and  for  a  second  she  re- 
tained her  position,  neither  speaking,  while  Rob- 
ert crept  slowly  away  toward  a  near-by  window 
where  he  concealed  himself  behind  the  curtains. 

"John?"    said  the  countess  then;    "John?" 

Ashton  did  not  reply,  and  she  moved  forward, 
stepping  through  the  now  vacant  easel  and 
approaching  slowly  the  spot  where  he  was  stand- 
ing. 

"  John?  "  she  repeated,  gliding  still  closer  to 
him  and  reaching  out  both  hands  appealingly. 
Then  she  paused,  without  touching  him. 

Still  he  did  not  move.  He  felt  that  he  could 
not  trust  his  own  senses ;  his  powers  of  utterance 
were  paralyzed,  his  position  unprecedented,  in- 
explicable, confounding;  and  all  the  while  there 
was  something  in  the  eyes  of  the  woman  so 

138 


THE  ONLY  WAY  139 

strangely  introduced  into  his  presence  which 
held  his  own  in  spite  of  himself;  which  com- 
manded his  silence  and  his  respect. 

But  Lady  Mercy  could  endure  no  more.  She 
realized  that  he  looked  upon  her  with  unrecogni- 
tion,  and  the  sustaining  power  which  until  now 
had  upheld  her  in  her  effort  to  play  the  part  she 
had  undertaken  gave  way. 

She  threw  herself  forward  upon  his  breast, 
clasping  her  white,  soft  arms  around  his  neck, 
and  without  a  sigh,  or  sound,  lost  consciousness. 

She  would  have  slipped  from  his  grasp  to  the 
floor  of  the  library,  had  not  his  own  arms  sus- 
tained her,  but  he  caught  her  as  she  would  have 
fallen,  and  lifting  her  gently,  placed  her  in  one 
of  the  big  library  chairs.  Then,  straightening 
up,  he  looked  sharply  around  for  Robert. 

The  old  servant,  however,  was  still  concealed 
behind  the  curtain  and  was  too  greatly  fright- 
ened, or  perhaps  too  wise  to  make  his  presence 
known. 

"  Robert!  Robert!  "  called  Ashton,  but  there 
was  no  reply,  and  the  American  glanced  again 
at  his  companion  in  the  chair,  discovering  that 
her  eyes  were  open  —  that  she  was  already  re- 
covering from  her  swoon. 

"  I  am  rejoiced  that  you  are  better,  madam," 
he  said  coldly.  "  I  think,  now  that  you  are  not 


140     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

in  need  of  assistance,  and  lest  you  might  have  a 
second  attack,  I  will  leave  you." 

He  turned  to  go,  but  her  voice  compelled  him 
to  wait. 

"Stop,  sir;  stop,  one  moment,  I  pray  you!" 
she  gasped.  "  Do  you  not  see  that  I  am  suffer- 
ing? Oh,  for  the  love  of  God  do  not  leave  me 
yet!" 

He  fell  back  a  step  or  two  and  paused  again. 

"  Why  do  you  wish  me  to  remain?  "  he  asked, 
regarding  her  intently  and  with  some  curiosity 
in  his  glance.  "  Why  are  you  suffering?  Is  it 
because  you,  too,  insist  upon  confounding  my 
identity  with  that  of  the  lost  Earl  of  Ash- 
ton?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  faltered. 

She  had  not  strength  enough  to  move;  indeed 
she  seemed  to  possess  barely  sufficient  energy  to 
speak.  The  trying  experience  through  which 
she  had  passed  while  concealed  behind  the  por-t 
trait,  the  continued  repression  of  all  her  emotions, 
followed  by  the  sudden  and  alarming  d£noue- 
ment,  had  undone  her  completely.  In  that  in- 
stant she  experienced  greater  despair  than  she 
had  felt  during  all  the  long  year  of  sorrow  and 
waiting  that  had  just  come  to  a  close.  The  hope 
upon  which  she  had  lived  until  that  moment, 
seemed  blasted  now. 


THE  ONLY  WAY  141 

Ashton  studied  her  face  closely  before  he 
ventured  to  speak  again,  and  then  his  question 
was  uttered  so  deliberately,  so  coldly,  and  —  to 
her  —  so  cruelly,  that  it  started  her  into  instant 
life,  and  she  sprang  from  the  chair,  apparently 
electrified. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  "  may  I  be  so  bold  as  to 
inquire  who  you  are?  " 

Then  it  was  that  she  started  up  and  confronted 
him  with  flashing  eyes  and  flaming  cheeks,  re- 
animated, newly  armed  and  equipped  for  the 
battle  that  she  must  wage  with  the  most  subtle 
foe  in  all  the  world,  forgetfulness. 

"  I  was,  before  I  knew  you,  Lady  Mercy  Cov- 
ington,"  she  said  deliberately.  "  Now  I  am  Lady 
Mercy  Hertford,  the  Countess  of  Ashton  and 
Cowingford,  your  wife." 

"  Good  God!  "  was  all  that  Ashton  could  ejac- 
ulate, and  he  started  back  as  though  stricken 
by  a  bullet. 

He  had  not  imagined  that  she  could  be  the 
countess.  Until  this  moment  he  had  not  noticed 
the  strong  resemblance  to  the  photograph  he  had 
seen  the  night  before ;  Robert  had  told  him  that 
she  was  on  the  Continent,  and  he  had  supposed, 
if  he  had  supposed  anything,  that  the  woman 
before  him  was  some  relative  or  friend  of  the 
family  whom  Robert  had  smuggled  into  the 


142     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

house  to  assist  him  in  convincing  his  guest  that 
he  was  the  missing  earl. 

Here  was  a  complication  —  one  which  bade 
fair  to  be  more  trying  than  anything  that  Robert 
might  have  conjured  up,  and  Ashton  did  not 
know  how  to  meet  it;  and  while  he  stood  there, 
half  dazed  by  the  announcement  she  had 
made,  the  countess  spoke  again,  calmly  and 
slowly. 

"  John,"  she  said,  "  there  must  be  some  way 
to  make  you  remember.  Won't  you  try  to  help 
me?  No  matter  how  thoroughly  you  may  be 
convinced  in  your  own  mind  that  you  are  not 
John  Hertford,  won't  you  have  patience  with 
me  and  help  me?  Won't  you,  John?  " 

"  Help  you  to  convince  me  that  I  am  your 
husband? "  he  almost  shouted.  "  My  good 
woman,  you  are  mad!  You  must  be  mad!  " 

"  No,  John,"  she  responded,  as  calmly  as  be- 
fore, "it  is  you  who  are  mad,  not  1.  Do  you 
think  that  I  could  be  deceived?  I,  who  have 
loved  you  since  we  were  children  together?  I, 
your  wife,  if  only  in  name?  Robert,  who  has 
known  you  from  the  cradle,  might  be  deceived, 
but  not  I.  The  whole  world  might  be  deceived, 
but  not  I.  My  own  eyes  and  ears  might  be 
deceived,  but  not  my  heart,  and  that  tells  me 
that  you  are  John  Hertford  —  that  you  are 


THE  ONLY  WAY  143 

my  husband  who  has  come  back  to  me  after 
a  whole  year  of  waiting.  Would  my  own  heart 
fail  me  in  an  extremity  like  this?  " 

He  could  only  gaze  at  her  in  consternation  and 
amazement. 

"  Is  this  an  asylum  for  the  insane? "  he 
muttered.  "  Am  I  the  plaything  of  a  lot  of 
maniacs?  " 

"  No,"  she  replied  as  unmoved  as  ever,  for 
she  was  determined  not  to  give  way  again, 
"  there  is  no  one  here  who  is  insane.  You  have 
forgotten,  that  is  all.  You  are  in  your  own  house, 
in  the  presence  of  your  own  wife.  You  were 
called  from  my  side  the  evening  of  our  wedding 
day,  one  year  ago  yesterday,  and  I  have  never 
seen  you  since  that  time.  Yesterday,  Robert 
met  you  and  brought  you  home.  Home,  John, 
home!  Has  the  word  no  significance  for  you, 
even  if  the  name  of  your  wife  has  not?  " 

Ashton  did  not  immediately  reply.  He  was 
thinking  —  trying  to  decide  what  was  best  to 
do  in  order  to  convince  her  of  her  error,  and 
presently  he  decided. 

There  was  only  one  way,  only  one.  He  would 
tell  her  his  own  'history ;  tell  her  about  Hope ; 
about  that  scene  with  her  in  the  counting-room 
of  the  bank,  and  the  one  that  followed  it  which 
had  ended  so  fatally.  It  would  wrench  his  heart 


144    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

strings  apart,  but  he  would  tell  her.  It  was  the 
only  way. 

He  crossed  the  room  to  the  chair  that  she  had 
occupied,  drew  it  forward,  and  then  stepped  back 
again. 

"  Be  seated,  madam,  if  you  please,"  he  said. 
"  I  have  decided  to  tell  you  a  story  about  my- 
self, and  perhaps,  when  you  have  heard  it,  you 
will  not  be  so  eager  to  claim  me  for  a  relative; 
but  first  permit  me  to  ask  you  a  question." 

She  took  the  chair  and  waited  expectantly. 

"  Robert  told  me  that  you  were  abroad,"  he 
continued.  "  Will  you  tell  me  how  it  happens 
that  you  are  here  at  this  time?  " 

"  I  have  never  left  the  house  since  I  entered  it 
on  your  arm,  a  bride,"  she  replied. 

"  Am  I  so  like  your  husband  in  everything  — 
voice,  articulation,  features,  motion,  manner- 
isms? " 

1  Yes ;  you  speak  with  more  directness,  per- 
haps, than  you  used  to  do,  but  the  change  is 
very  slight.  One  year's  travel  in  America  might 
produce  it." 

"  Listen,  then,  madam,  and  I  will  tell  you  my 
story;  I  see  there  is  no  help  for  it." 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA 

"  WHEN  I  was  a  baby,  possibly  two  or  three 
weeks  old,"  Ashton  began,  "  I  was  found  in  a 
-basket  on  the  doorstep  of  the  residence  of  a 
banker  in  the  city  of  New  York.  That  was 
nearly  thirty-one  years  ago.  The  banker  took 
me  in,  kept  me,  and  reared  me  with  as  much 
tenderness  as  if  I  had  been  his  own  son,  and  in- 
deed, until  one  year  ago  yesterday  I  believed  my- 
self to  be  his  nephew.  Then  he  undeceived  me, 
and  how,  you  shall  hear  before  I  have  done. 
There  was  nothing  about  me  to  indicate  that  I 
had  a  name,  and  he  gave  me  the  name  of  a  friend, 
an  Englishman  who  had  been  his  chum  at  col- 
lege; that  name  is  John  Cowingford  Ashton. 
The  only  way  in  which  I  can  account  for  the 
coincidence  in  names,  is  that  the  father  of  your 
husband  was  the  friend  for  whom  I  was  named. 
I  grew  up  in  that  family  as  happy  as  a  boy  could 
be  made  to  be  by  tender  care  and  love.  I  ad- 
dressed my  benefactor  as  uncle,  and  regarded 

145 


146     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

his  daughter,  who  was  born  eight  years  after  my 
advent,  as  my  cousin.  Her  I  loved  with  the  only 
love  that  ever  came  into  my  life.  When  I  became 
old  enough  I  entered  my  benefactor's  bank  as  a 
clerk,  and  step  by  step  rose  to  the  position  of 
cashier,  which  place  I  held  until  one  year  ago 
yesterday,  when  I  —  when  I  gave  it  up  and  came 
away. 

"  The  daughter's  name  was  —  is  —  Hope,"  he 
continued  after  a  moment's  pause.  '  You  heard 
me  utter  it  when  I  stood  before  the  portrait, 
and,  looking  into  your  eyes,  fancied  that  I  saw 
something  in  them  to  remind  me  of  her.  We 
were  to  have  been  married,  but  because  of  an  act 
of  folly,  all  my  own,  and  the  subsequent  and 
possibly  consequent  perfidy  and  shamelessness 
of  a  woman  —  because  of  that,  I  am  here.  Be- 
cause of  that  the  ceremony  never  was  and  never 
can  be  performed.  I  cannot  explain  that  act  to 
you  except  to  say  that  I  permitted  myself  to 
make  love  to  that  other  woman ;  and  that  Hope 
believed  I  sinned  beyond  her  power  to  forgive, 
sinned  beyond  redemption  in  her  eyes.  Nay,  I 
will  be  entirely  frank  with  you.  Why  not?  It 
is  your  right  to  know  the  truth  in  order  that  you 
may  be  convinced.  I  will  tell  it  all  to  you.  There 
was  a  young  woman  in  New  York  who  chose  to 
flatter  me  with  the  outward  expression  of  her 


THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA    147 

regard.  She  was  beautiful,  attractive,  possessed 
of  certain  fascinations  she  well  knew  how  to  use, 
and  I  —  I  flirted  with  her,  or  permitted  myself 
to  be  flirted  with.  Pray  do  not  think  that  I  am 
attempting  to  belittle  my  own  fault.  But  I 
saw  the  folly  of  it  all  very  quickly.  I  sought  — 
blunderingly,  I  suppose  —  to  withdraw  from  the 
unpleasant  complication,  for  while  my  tongue 
had  wandered  from  its  loyalty  to  Hope,  my  heart 
never  had.  Nor  had  there  been  any  acts  of  in- 
discretion, beyond  a  few  tender  hand  clasps,  some 
whispered  and  meaningless  sentences,  and  one, 
just  one,  spasmodic  embrace  and  kiss  in  the 
conservatory  of  her  guardian's  house.  Nothing 
more  than  the  things  I  have  described,  I  swear! 
And  yet  that  woman  chose  to  deceive  herself 
into  the  belief  that  she  loved  me.  She  wrote 
many  letters  to  me!  I  replied  to  only  one,  the 
first.  Finally  her  letters  became  threatening. 
She  told  me  that  she  would  go  to  Miss  Hollister 
with  the  story,  and  she  added  significantly  that 
'  the  story  would  lose  nothing  in  the  telling.' 
She  did  go  to  Hope  with  her  tale  —  with  one 
she  had  manufactured  for  the  occasion;  with  one 
so  repulsive  in  its  conception  and  so  revolting  in 
its  details,  that  even  now  when  I  think  of  it  I 
stand  appalled  and  almost  incredulous,  to  think 
that  a  woman  could  falsely  charge  herself  so 


148    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

vilely.  And  Hope  believed.  Why  should  she 
not  do  so  when  a  woman,  face  to  face  with  her, 
charged  herself  with  such  a  crime? 

"  Miss  Hollister  wrote  me  a  letter  and  left  it 
on  the  table  in  my  room  for  me  to  find.  In  that 
letter,  without  intending  to  do  so,  she  informed 
me  quite  plainly  how  I  had  been  charged,  and 
she  told  me  with  all  candour  that  we  must  part. 
In  fact  she  asked  me  to  meet  her  that  night  in 
the  counting-room  of  the  bank  —  it  was  a  private 
institution  —  when  she  should  leave  a  reception 
she  was  to  attend.  She  asked  me  to  meet  her 
there  for  that  last  interview,  because  she  had 
determined  never  to  exchange  another  word 
with  me  beneath  her  father's  roof.  She  even 
told  me  that  she  would  not  again  sit  at  the  table 
with  me,  and  that  if  I  remained  another  night 
in  the  house,  after  that  one,  sjie  would  leave  it 
and  would  remain  away  until  I  had  gone. 

"  Countess,  if  you  could  read  that  letter,  if 
you  could  have  overheard  the  interview  between 
Miss  Hollister  and  me  at  the  bank  that  night, 
you  would  perhaps  comprehend  how  her  father 
came  to  grossly  misconstrue  each  written  sen- 
tence, each  spoken  word.  Henry  Hollister's  pater- 
nal eyes  had  seen  that  something  troubled  his 
daughter.  He  went  to  my  room  that  evening 
before  I  arrived,  thinking  I  was  there.  He  found 


THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA   149 

the  letter  and  read  it.  He  read  it  believing  all 
the  while  that  Hope  was  referring  to  herself  in- 
stead of  another  woman.  Crazed  as  I  now  be- 
lieve by  that  self  deception,  he  too  went  to  the 
bank;  he  concealed  himself  in  the  private  office 
with  the  result  that  he  overheard  our  interview, 
which  must  have  been  even  more  ambiguous 
than  the  letter.  Before  it  was  ended  he  inter- 
rupted us.  I  had  seized  his  daughter  and  was 
holding  her  in  my  arms  when  he  came  upon  us. 
.  .  .  He  took  her  away,  conducted  her  to  the 
carriage,  ordering  me  to  remain  where  I  was.  .  .  . 
When  he  returned  he  was  terrible  in  his  anger 
and  I  could  not  understand.  ...  It  was  then 
he  told  me  who  I  was  or  rather  who  I  was  not; 
and  then  as  his  fury  increased,  he  uttered  words 
that  made  me  understand  at  last. 

"  The  tempest  of  rage  that  shook  me  when  I 
did  comprehend  fully  his  meaning,  and  the 
horrible  thing  he  had  made  himself  believe, 
maddened  me.  It  made  an  insane  person  of  me. 
I  seized  him,  choked  him,  threw  him  from  me  to 
the  floor.  ...  In  falling  his  head  struck  an  iron 
safe.  .  .  .  And  he  died." 

Ashton  paused  and  with  a  visible  effort  con- 
trolled himself. 

"  I  left  the  bank.  I  wandered  through  the 
streets  all  that  night  and  throughout  the  fol- 


150    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

lowing  day.  I  visited  a  barber  and  had  my 
beard  and  moustache  shaven.  I  changed  my 
name  to  Cornell,  and  I  cannot  understand  now 
why  I  did  not  give  that  name  to  Robert  when  he 
met  me  on  the  corner  of  St.  James  Street,  unless 
it  is  that  I  had  about  decided  to  return  to  New 
York  and  give  myself  up  for  the  crime  I  had 
committed.  The  remainder  of  the  story  you 
know.  The  recital  of  it  has  given  me  more  pain 
than  I  can  describe,  and  I  sincerely  hope  that  it 
has  served  the  purpose  for  which  I  have  intended 
it  —  that  you  are  convinced  of  the  error  into 
which  you  and  your  servant  have  fallen  because 
of  my  strange  and  unaccountable  resemblance 
to  your  husband.  Are  you  convinced,  madam?  " 

He  regarded  her  earnestly  as  he  ceased  speak- 
ing. Then  when  she  raised  her  eyes  to  his,  and 
he  saw  that  they  were  as  steadfast  as  ever,  and 
that  his  recital  had  had  no  effect  upon  her  other 
than  to  assure  her  that  he  was  struggling  under 
the  effects  of  an  hallucination,  he  started  back 
in  anger,  finding  it  difficult  to  believe  in  his  own 
senses. 

"  John,"  she  said,  rising  and  coming  closer  to 
him,  "what  could  have  put  all  of  that  awful  his- 
tory into  your  head?  Did  you  dream  all  those 
things  while  you  were  ill,  and  have  you  carried  that 
frightful  sorrow  around  with  you  ever  since  you 


THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA    151 

recovered?  I  am  your  Hope,  John.  There  is  no 
such  banker,  or  if  there  is,  it  is  somebody  you  have 
met  while  you  were  still  ill,  and  the  remainder 
of  the  story  you  have  imagined.  Can  you  not 
see  it  so?  " 

"  I  regret,  madam,  that  I  cannot,"  he  replied 
coldly.  "  With  your  permission,  I  will  go." 

"  Not  yet!  Not  yet!  "  she  cried,  extending  one 
hand  with  a  rapid  gesture,  and  detaining  him. 

"  I  insist,  madam,  that  I  must  go.  I  have  al- 
ready remained  too  long." 

"  Tell  me,  John,  the  address  of  the  banker, 
Henry  Hollister?  " 

"  Why  that?  " 

"  You  have  been  endeavouring  to  convince  me 
that  I  am  in  error,  and  now  it  becomes  my  duty 
to  convince  you  that  it  is  you  who  err." 

"  Indeed!   In  what  manner?  " 

"  I  will  cable  to  New  York  at  once.  I  will  as- 
certain if  there  is  a  banker  there,  living,  by  that 
name;  if  so,  if  he  ever  had  in  his  employ  or  ever 
knew  such  a  person  as  John  Ashton,  and  if  that 
is  also  true,  what  was  the  manner  of  his  leaving 
his  employ." 

"  I  cannot  consent  to  it.  The  cable  would 
find  Hope.  She  would  suffer  anew.  It  cannot  be 
done." 

"  You  mistake  me.     I  have  a  friend  who  re- 


152    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

sides  in  New  York.  I  will  cable  to  her.  She  will 
make  the  inquiry  for  me  at  the  bank.  I  will  not 
spare  words  in  the  message.  I  will  instruct  her 
how  to  act  in  everything.  Wait.  I  will  write 
the  message  now  and  you  shall  approve  of  it 
before  it  goes.  Robert  will  send  it  for  us.  If  the 
reply  confirms  your  story,  I  will  believe.  May 
I  write  it,  John?  May  I?" 

"  Yes,  write  it  if  you  must,"  he  said,  shrugging 
his  shoulders  and  dropping  into  the  chair.  "  It 
seems  to  be  the  only  way  to  convince  you,  and 
I  shall  return  to  New  York  and  surrender  myself 
to  the  law,  anyway.  Write." 

She  hurried  to  the  table  where  Ashton  had 
written  the  letter  of  dictation  for  Robert,  but  he 
did  not  see  her  when  she  discovered  it.  She  gave 
a  sudden  start,  seized  and  folded  it,  and  hastily 
thrust  it  into  the  bosom  of  her  morning  robe. 
Then  she  took  up  the  pen  and  wrote. 

"  Listen,"  she  said  presently,  rising  and  re- 
turning to  the  chair  where  Ashton  was  seated, 
"  I  will  read  the  message  to  you;  or  do  you  pre- 
fer to  read  it  for  yourself?  " 

"  No,  read  it." 

"  It  is  to  the  friend  of  whom  I  spoke.  We  were 
schoolmates  and  inseparable  while  she  remained 
in  this  country.  She  married  an  American. 
Listen." 


THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA   153 

"  I  listen,  madam." 

"  '  Is  Henry  Hollister,  banker '  (giving  the 
address)  'alive?  Has  he  ever  had  in  his  employ 
or  does  he  know  John  Ashton?  When  to  both. 
Reply  immediately  full  particulars.  Vital  im- 
portance. Strictly  confidential.'  Can  you  sug- 
gest anything  to  add  to  the  message?  " 

"  Nothing,  madam." 

"  You  are  quite  sure?  " 

"  Quite  so." 

"  Will  you  wait  for  me  while  I  call  Robert?  " 

"  Yes." 

Robert,  anticipating  that  he  was  about  to  be 
summoned,  stole  from  behind  his  curtain  through 
the  door  into  the  hallway,  and  having  permitted 
sufficient  time  to  elapse  after  she  rang  the  bell, 
reappeared. 

When  the  countess  had  given  him  his  instruc- 
tions and  he  was  gone,  she  returned  to  Ashton, 
who  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

"  You  will  await  the  reply,  here?  "  she  asked 
anxiously. 

"  No,  madam." 

"  You  must,  John,  you  must.    It  is  only  fair." 

"It  is  impossible.  Many  hours  must  elapse 
before  you  can  receive  an  answer,  and  I  know 
already  what  it  will  be." 

"  You  believe  that  you  know.    Don't  go,  John, 


154    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

I  pray  you  do  not  go  until  the  reply  comes.  You 
do  not  know  what  it  will  be.  You  said  you  would 
consent  that  I  should  try  this  test." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  what  the  reply  will  be?  "  he 
asked,  smiling  cynically. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  tell  me." 

She  only  thought  of  gaining  time  so  that  she 
could  conjure  up  some  plan  that  would  keep 
him  there. 

"Your  reply  will  read  something  like  this: 
'  Ashton  murdered  Hollister  one  year  ago.  Arrest 
him.'  Good  heaven,  madam,  I  left  my  written 
confession  on  the  desk  when  I  went  out  from  the 
counting-room  that  night.  Do  you  think  there 
could  be  any  doubt  concerning  the  reception 
accorded  your  friend  when  she  goes  there  to 
inquire  for  me?  Don't  you  realize  that  it  will 
involve  her,  and  do  you  wish  to  do  that?  There 
is  such  a  thing  as  outfollying  folly,  and  my  man- 
hood revolts  against  the  thought  of  permitting 
myself  longer  to  remain  a  party  to  it.  I  must  go. 
When  your  reply  comes,  you  will  be  convinced. 
If  you  suffer  while  you  await  its  arrival,  you  will 
feel  all  the  more  respect  for  me  because  I  did  not 
remain  to  be  a  witness  to  your  regret  for  this 
scene." 

With  a  quick  motion  Lady  Mercy  stepped 
between  Ashton  and  the  door,  and  stood  facing 


THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA  ,  155 

him.  A  physiognomist  might  have  discovered 
infinite  possibilities  in  her  countenance.  Its 
startling  beauty  was  greatly  heightened  by  the 
excitement  of  the  moment.  Her  eyes,  always 
brilliant,  gleamed  with  a  new  light  which  dazzled 
and  held  him,  and  he  almost  recoiled  before  the 
intensity  of  her  gaze.  She  seemed  to  have  grown 
taller  and  stronger  in  that  brief  instant,  and  by 
sheer  force  of  will  to  have  reached  out  and  seized 
control  of  the  situation. 

"You  must  not  —  you  shall  not  go!"  she 
exclaimed,  although  her  voice  was  not  raised  and 
her  words  were  as  calmly  spoken  as  any  that  she 
had  uttered  during  that  unprecedented  conver- 
sation. "  No  matter  who  you  are;  whether  you 
are  my  husband,  or  the  man  whom  you  claim 
to  be,  you  have  no  right  to  go  out  now,  and  you 
shall  not  go!  You  shall  not  go!  " 

"  Lady  Mercy  — "  he  began,  but  she  raised 
one  arm  and  stopped  him. 

"  You  refer  to  your  manhood,"  she  said, 
attacking  him  on  another  point,  and  permitting 
the  suggestion  of  a  ring  of  scorn  to  permeate  her 
tones;  "  do  you  think  it  is  a  manly  thing  to  do, 
to  leave  me  now  in  order  that  you  may  seek  your 
own  pleasure  while  I  remain  here  to  suffer  alone? 
I  think  it  is  cowardly." 

"  Cowardly,  madam? " 


156    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Yes,  cowardly.  There  is  no  other  word  to 
apply  to  it." 

"  I  think  it  is  cowardly  for  me  to  remain,  when 
I  know  what  the  result  will  be  —  it  would  be  an 
act  of  the  most  abject  kind  of  cowardice.  I  must 

go." 

"  You  cannot  go  unless  you  put  me  away  from 
this  door  by  force.  I  will  not  step  aside  to  permit 
you  to  pass." 

"  In  that  case,  madam,  I  shall  feel  compelled 
to  do  that  very  thing,"  he  replied. 

"  What!  You  would  do  that?  " 

"  If  necessary,  yes." 

"  Oh,  God,  is  there  nothing  that  will  induce 
you  to  remain? " 

"  Nothing." 

"Then  do  it,"  she  said  desperately.  "  I  shall 
not  stand  aside.  Use  your  man's  brute  strength 
against  a  woman's  pleading,  if  you  will.  You 
shall  leave  this  room  in  no  other  manner." 

She  stood  facing  him  with  her  arms,  half  bare, 
thrown  widely  apart  and  covering  the  doorway, 
and  when  he  took  a  step  nearer  to  her, 
she  did  not  move,  nor  did  she  turn  her  gaze  from 
his. 

She  was  breathing  heavily,  for  deep  down  in 
her  soul  she  believed  this  to  be  the  one  struggle 
of  her  life.  There  was  no  doubt  in  her  mind; 


THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA   157 

only  conviction,  made  the  stronger  by  Ashton's 
determination  to  go. 

Perhaps  he  had  masqueraded  in  America  as 
John  Ashton.  Perhaps  he  had  secured  a  clerkship 
in  a  bank  over  there.  Perhaps  he  had  known 
Henry  Hollister,  and  Hope,  and  had,  during  the 
tortuous  vagaries  of  his  unbalanced  mind,  learned 
to  love  her,  or  to  think  that  he  loved  her.  Per- 
haps, even,  it  was  true  that  Henry  Hollister  was 
dead  and  that  he  had  fallen  by  this  man's  hand. 
All  this  and  more  might  be  possible,  still  he  was 
none  the  less  her  husband.  That,  she  did  not, 
could  not  doubt.  It  was  with  her  a  settled  con- 
viction; and  if  all  those  possibilities  were  true, 
was  it  not  all  the  more  vital  that  she  should 
detain  him  there? 

The  cable  might  say  that  the  banker  was  dead, 
and  that  he  had  been  killed  by  John  Ashton,  but 
it  certainly  could  not  say  that  John  Ashton  had 
been  known  to  them  above  a  year.  She  would 
wait.  She  would  know  how  to  act  when  the 
message  arrived,  for  in  her  heart  she  believed 
that  word  would  come  that  Henry  Hollister  was 
still  living,  and  that  he  did  not,  and  never  had 
known  John  Ashton. 

The  man  was  in  a  difficult  position.  He  was 
determined  that  he  would  depart  from  the  house 
before  that  cablegram  could  arrive,  and  yet  facing 


158    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

him  was  the  unpleasant  situation  of  being  com- 
pelled to  thrust  aside,  by  force,  the  woman  who 
opposed  him  with  such  vehemence  that  he  could 
not  doubt  her  sincerity.  Indeed  it  was  the  very 
fact  that  he  could  not  and  did  not  doubt  her  which 
rendered  him  all  the  more  determined  to  go. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  possible  for  us  to  temporize," 
he  said,  presently,  grasping  at  the  only  plan  that 
presented  itself.  "  Will  you  listen  to  a  sugges- 
tion I  have  to  make?  " 

"  I  will  listen,  John." 

"  If  John  were  not  my  name,"  he  replied, 
shrugging  his  shoulders,  "  I  should  resent  your 
constant  repetition  of  it.  Under  other  circum- 
stances I  should  be  glad  to  have  you  so  address 
me.  This  is  my  suggestion:  I  will  return  to  my 
hotel  and  there  await  the  arrival  of  Robert, 
whom  you  will  send  to  me  with  whatever  message, 
verbal  or  written,  you  care  to  despatch  after  you 
have  heard  from  New  York.  Will  that  suffice, 
if  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  will  do  as  I 
say?" 

'Wait;   if  the  message  I  send  is  for  you  to 
return  here,  will  you  do  so?  " 

"  No." 

"  Not  even  to  hear  my  apologies,  if  apologies 
are  necessary?  " 

'  They  will  be  unnecessary  in  any  case." 


THE  MESSAGE  ACROSS  THE  SEA   159 

'  You  do  not  reply.    If  I  request  you  to  return 
here,  will  you  do  so?  " 

"  No." 

"  Then  I  will  not  consent.  I  demand  as  my 
right,  that  you  remain  here." 

"  And  I  insist  that  I  go." 

"  You  shall  not  go." 

"I  must  go  —  I  will  go.  Stand  aside,  Lady 
Mercy,  and  spare  yourself  and  me  the  indignity 
you  threaten." 

"  It  is  you  who  threaten;  not  I." 

"  Will  you  step  aside?  " 

"  No." 

"  I  beg  that  you  wll  do  so." 

"  I  refuse." 

He  regarded  her  earnestly  for  a  moment, 
but  there  was  no  sign  of  faltering  in  her  steady, 
unflinching  eyes.  Then  he  moved  a  pace  nearer 
and  stretched  forth  one  hand  until  it  rested  on 
one  of  her  uplifted  arms. 

"  Beware! "  she  whispered;  then,  suddenly, 
before  he  could  reply,  she  threw  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  and  with  unnatural  strength  forced 
him  back  into  the  room  over  against  the  couch 
and  down  upon  it,  exerting  all  her  weight  and 
power  to  hold  him  there. 

"  Don't  go!  Don't  go!  For  God's  sake,  don't 
go!  "  she  moaned.  "  I  will  die  if  you  go  now! 


160    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

Don't  leave  me.  I  pray,  I  beg,  I  entreat,  remain! 
Remain  until  the  message  conies!  Cannot  you 
see  that  this  is  killing  me?  Don't  go!  Don't  go! 
Oh,  God,  help  me  to  keep  him!  God  help  me! 
God  help  me!  God  help  him  /" 

Her  voice  died  away  in  a  moan.  Her  arms 
relaxed  and  fell  from  around  his  neck,  and  she 
sank  back,  mercifully  unconscious. 

Ashton  straightened  up.  He  placed  her  more 
comfortably  on  the  couch,  adjusted  a  cushion 
under  her  head,  and  with  a  tenderness  such  as  he 
had  not  experienced  since  his  parting  with  Hope, 
bent  over  and  touched  his  lips  to  her  forehead. 

"  Poor  child,"  he  murmured.  "  I  doubt  if  you 
have  suffered  more  than  I  during  this  interview, 
but  you  will  approve  my  course  when  you  have 
read  the  message  from  across  the  sea." 

Then  he  turned  away  and  went  out  of  the 
house,  down  the  street,  and  was  soon  lost  in  the 
shuttle-like  crowd  of  a  London  thoroughfare. 


CHAPTER  XII 
AT  HERTFORD'S  FAVOURITE  CLUB 

JOHN  ASHTON'S  emotions  when  he  departed 
from  the  residence  of  the  Earls  of  Ashton  and 
Cowingford,  are  indescribable.  He  was  deter- 
mined, but  dazed.  A  chain  of  circumstances  as 
inexplicable  as  they  were  remarkable  had  com- 
pelled him  to  discuss  his  own  affairs  with  another, 
when  he  had  utterly  and  for  an  entire  year 
declined  even  to  discuss  them  with  himself.  He 
had  been  forced  into  a  betrayal  of  the  incidents 
of  that  last  night  in  New  York ;  he  had  permitted 
a  cablegram  to  be  sent;  he  had  voluntarily 
placed  himself  in  a  position  from  which  there  was 
no  escape,  and  he  had  decided  —  irrevocably 
decided,  he  believed  —  to  return  to  the  city  of 
his  birth,  to  surrender  to  the  law,  and  voluntarily 
to  stand  trial  for  the  killing  of  his  benefactor, 
Henry  Hollister. 

Nor  was  this  all.  The  scenes  of  the  preceding 
night,  with  its  inexplicable  entanglements  and 
the  interviews  with  old  Robert  and  with  Lady 


162     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

Mercy,  might  have  overwhelmed  a  stronger  man 
than  he  was. 

If  he  could  have  doubted  her  sincerity;  if  he 
could  have  believed  that  she  was  mad;  if  he 
could  have  accounted  for  her  extraordinary  be- 
lief in  any  logical  way,  or  in  any  manner  satis- 
factory to  his  own  mind  even  though  illogical 
in  itself,  he  might  have  smiled  on  the  whole 
thing  and  have  gone  on  his  way,  reserving  the 
incident  only  as  a  memory;  but  he  could  not  do 
this.  His  only  connected  thought  when  he  de- 
parted from  the  house  was  devout  thankfulness 
that  he  had  escaped,  and  firm  determination 
that  he  would  avoid  every  possibility  of  a  second 
interview.  It  was  his  intention,  vague  though 
real,  to  return  at  once  to  his  hotel  —  fortunately, 
he  had  not  mentioned  its  name  —  and  to  remain 
in  seclusion  until  the  time  for  the  sailing  of  the 
first  steamer  for  New  York. 

Everything  else  was  a  jumble  in  his  brain. 
He  started  out  in  the  direction  he  wished  to  walk 
much  as  a  drunken  man  reels  toward  home  — 
instinctively. 

He  passed  people  on  the  street  without  seeing 
them.  He  crossed  crowded  thoroughfares,  dodg- 
ing in  and  out  among  the  swarms  of  cabs  and 
buses  without  realizing  that  he  dodged,  without 
knowing  that  many  times  he  barely  escaped  col- 


AT  HERTFORD'S  CLUB  163 

lision  with  horses  and  wheels,  without  hearing 
the  angry  and  warning  shouts  of  drivers,  "  bob- 
bies "  and  pedestrians,  who,  less  absorbed  than 
himself,  regarded  personal  welfare  and  physical 
immunity  from  harm  as  worthy  of  attention. 

Not  he.  He  might  have  been  in  Cairo,  in 
Paris,  on  desert  plains,  or  in  a  wilderness,  and  it 
would  have  been  the  same.  His  thoughts  were 
in  New  York ;  his  eyes  saw  only  Hollister's  bank, 
and  Hope,  and  her  father;  his  soul  was  wander- 
ing beyond  the  limit  of  its  earthly  sphere,  and 
the  power  of  locomotion  alone  seemed  to  have 
remained  with  his  body. 

He  turned  into  Piccadilly,  striding  on  as 
rapidly  as  the  crowds  on  the  street  would  per- 
mit him  to  do,  jostling,  colliding,  and  bumping 
his  way  through  the  throng,  unheeding  the  angry 
gestures  and  rough  words  that  often  were  hurled 
at  him  because  of  his  clumsiness ;  and  so  arrived 
at  Dover  Street. 

There,  however,  the  throng  of  vehicles  was  so 
dense  that  he  continued  still  farther  on  his  way, 
and  presently  attempted  to  cross  among  the  maze 
of  horses  and  wheels  so  that  he  could  turn  into 
Albemarle  Street,  for  he  was  stopping  at  Browne's, 
which  has  an  entrance  on  both  streets. 

For  a  moment  he  hesitated,  waiting  for  an 
opening  through  the  crush,  and  at  length,  be- 


164    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

lieving  that  he  perceived  one,  he  darted  forward, 
leaped  past  one  madly  driven  horse,  dodged 
behind  a  cab,  slipped,  pitched  forward  like  one 
who  dives  from  a  pier  into  the  sea,  and  plunged 
headlong  directly  against  the  glistening  shoulder 
of  another  rapidly  moving  animal. 

Much  sooner  than  could  be  expected  —  almost 
suddenly  —  traffic  on  that  side  of  the  street  was 
suspended;  carriages  and  cabs  came  to  a  halt  as 
though  a  word  of  command  had  been  given  by 
one  in  authority. 

A  driver  or  two  leaped  to  the  ground,  "  bob- 
bies "  ran  toward  the  scene,  and  the  gentleman 
whose  horses  had  caused  the  disaster  stepped 
down  and  hurried  forward  to  the  spot  where  the 
prostrate  man  lay,  directing  his  coachman  to 
pull  up  to  the  curb  and  wait  while  he  followed 
those  who  bore  the  stricken  man  to  a  chemist's. 

The  crowd  which  always  collects  at  such 
scenes  gathered  there,  and  it  was  with  difficulty 
that  the  gentleman  made  his  way  through  it; 
but  he  succeeded,  and  presently  stood  near  those 
who  were  bending  over  the  injured  man  in  the 
effort  to  determine  if  he  still  lived. 

Presently  he  framed  the  question  that  was 
uppermost  in  his  mind. 

"  No,  he  is  not  dead,"  replied  the  chemist, 
"  but  he  is  severely  injured.  Perhaps  you  may 


AT  HERTFORD'S  CLUB  165 

know  him,  my  lord,"  he  continued,  recognizing 
his  questioner;   "  he  is  a  gentleman." 

"  Indeed." 

Without  another  word  the  owner  of  the  car- 
riage pressed  forward  and  bent  over  the  senseless 
form,  but  he  started  back  instantly,  apparently 
overwhelmed  by  what  he  saw. 

"Good  God!"  he  exclaimed.  "It  is  Lord 
John!  " 

"  Quick!  "  he  continued  authoritatively.  "  Get 
a  litter  of  some  kind.  Haven't  you  a  cot  or  a 
mattress  here,  my  man?  Get  it.  Officer,  drive 
that  crowd  away  from  the  door.  Eh?  Who  is 
he?  Lord  John  Hertford,  the  Earl  of  Ashton  and 
Cowin —  Ah,  doctor!  I  am  glad  that  you  hap- 
pened to  be  near.  It's  Lord  John.  I  didn't 
know  that  he  was  back  —  must  have  come  last 
night  or  this  morning  —  haven't  seen  or  heard 
a  word  of  him  in  a  year  or  more.  Will  he  live? 
Is  it  very  bad,  doctor?  " 

"  Bad  enough.  Broken  head  and  broken  ribs. 
We  can't  move  him  far,  but  he  must  be  got  out 
of  this  before  he  revives,  if  he  ever  does.  Where 
can  we  take  him,  my  lord?  Isn't  there  a  club  - 

"  Yes  —  the  Sachem  —  right  around  the  corner 

—  just  the  place  —  have  some  of  these  fellows 
carry  that  cot  —  Bobby,  clear  away  that  rabble 

—  Doctor,  the  chemist  here,  will  send  for  who- 


166     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

ever  you  wish  to  help  you.  Come,  now,  men. 
Be  awake!  A  minute  may  mean  life  or  death  to 
my  best  friend." 

Thus  it  happened  that  John  Ashton  was 
carried,  insensible,  to  one  of  those  quiet  little 
clubs  with  which  London  abounds.  This  partic- 
ular one  had  in  the  past  been  a  favourite  resort 
of  the  Earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford,  and  here 
perhaps  he  was  more  intimately  known  than  in 
any  other  place  in  England.  And  as  though  fate 
took  a  wicked  delight  in  playing  with  the  destiny 
of  this  self-condemned  outcast,  the  man  who 
believed  that  he  recognized  and  took  him  there 
had  been  the  most  intimate  friend  and  constant 
associate  of  the  lost  earl;  by  name,  Lord  Archie 
Quinlan. 

The  club  was  deserted  at  that  time  of  day. 
Most  of  its  members  had  not  breakfasted  when 
the  accident  occurred,  but  the  news  spread,  as 
such  news  will,  and  it  was  not  long  before  the 
clerk  was  besieged  with  inquiries  concerning  the 
condition  of  Lord  John. 

To  every  question  the  same  reply  was  given: 
"  He  is  still  unconscious,  but  the  doctors  do  not 
regard  the  injury  as  fatal." 

When  everything  had  been  done  that  could  be 
done,  but  while  the  doctors  were  still  struggling 
to  overcome  the  coma  into  which  the  accident 


AT  HERTFORD'S  CLUB  167 

had  thrust  their  patient,  Lord  Archie  descended 
to  the  lounging  room,  where  he  found  a  group  of 
the  earl's  friends  awaiting  him. 

"  How  did  it  happen?  "  "  When  did  it  hap- 
pen? "  "  Where  did  it  happen?  "  "  What  the 
devil  were  you  thinking  of,  to  run  him  down?  " 
"  When  did  he  get  back?  "  "  Did  you  know 
that  he  was  in  town?  "  "  Is  he  out  of  danger?  " 
"  Where  is  he  hurt?  "  "  Are  any  bones  broken?  " 
These  were  specimens  of  the  questions  that  were 
hurled  at  him  as  he  entered  the  room,  and  after 
he  had  replied  to  them  as  best  he  could,  he  said, 
suddenly : 

'  There  is  one  question  that  I  would  like  to 
ask,  if  anybody  could  answer  it." 

"  What  is  it?  "  somebody  inquired. 

"  Did  the  countess  return  with  him?  Somebody 
must  go  and  tell  her,  you  know." 

"  True  enough!  Look  here,  Archie,  I  have  an 
idea,"  exclaimed  another  intimate  friend  of  the 
earl. 

"  Let  me  have  it,  then;  I  confess  that  I  am 
done  up.  Good  God!  If  he  should  die,  I  would 
feel  as  though  I  had  killed  him." 

Lord  Archie  turned  away  from  them  then, 
and  walked  to  one  of  the  windows,  where  he  stood 
looking  out  upon  the  street,  tapping  the  panes 
with  his  fingers  and  struggling  manfully  to  con- 


168    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

trol  himself.    They  left  him  to  himself,  and  pres- 
ently he  rejoined  them,  as  calm  and  direct  as  ever. 

"  Well,  Buxton,  what  is  your  idea?  "  he  de- 
manded. 

"  Why,  Jack's  man  —  old  Robert,  you  know. 
He's  in  town.  I  saw  him  on  the  street  yesterday. 
We  might  send  for  him,  and  —  er  —  it  seems  to 
me  that  —  er  —  he'd  be  the  best  one  to  go  to 
the  countess;  eh?  If  you  should  show  up  there, 
old  man,  she'd  be  frightened  out  of  her  seven 
senses  before  you  said  a  word  —  she  would, 
'pon  my  soul,  for  you're  as  white  as  a  ghost  now. 
It's  got  to  be  done  quick,  too,  for  the  thing  is 
blazoned  all  over  town  already,  and  the  news'll 
be  fired  at  her  like  a  shot  out  of  a  gun  if  we  don't 
hurry." 

'  You're  right,  Bux.  But  we'll  not  send  for 
him.  I'll  go  fetch  him  myself." 

"  Pshaw,  man!    That  won't  do  at  all." 

"Why  not?" 

"  Why,  you'd  have  to  go  to  the  house.  Lady 
Mercy  would  see  you,  don't  you  know.  She'd  be 
sure  to  be  at  one  of  the  windows,  and  all  that. 
It  always  happens  that  way  when  one  wishes  to 
break  bad  news;  eh?  I  mean  when  one  is  obliged 
to  break  bad  news.  We'll  send  one  of  the  lads 
after  Robert  and  have  him  here;  eh?  Don't 
you  think  that  is  better?  " 


AT  HERTFORD'S  CLUB  169 

"  Perhaps  so;  yes." 

"  Good,  then.    You  write  a  note  to  Robert  —  " 

"  Damn  it,  old  chap,  what  do  I  want  to  write 
a  note  for? "  interrupted  Archie.  "  I'll  take 
your  idea  and  improve  upon  it.  Here,  my  lad, 
come  here.  What  is  your  name?  " 

"  Mike,  m'lud." 

"  Do  you  know  where  the  Earl  of  Ashton  and 
Cowingford  resides?  " 

"  Yes,  m'lud." 

"  Well,  go  there  as  quickly  as  you  can,  ask  for 
Lord  John's  man  Robert,  and  tell  him  that  his 
master  has  met  with  an  accident  —  " 

"  Say  that  he  has  sprained  his  ankle,  or  some- 
thing like  that,  you  know,"  broke  in  Sir  Thomas 
Buxton. 

"  — and  say  that  he  has  sprained  his  ankle," 
continued  Archie,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  the  in- 
terruption. "  Tell  him  it  is  nothing  serious,  and 
that  he  is  not  to  alarm  the  countess  on  any  - 

"  That's  just  the  best  way  to  alarm  her,"  in- 
terposed Buxton  hastily. 

"  Be  quiet,  Bux.  He  is  not  to  alarm  the  count- 
ess, but  he  is  to  tell  her  that  the  earl  is  injured, 
slightly  injured,  mind  you,  and  —  er  —  what  the 
devil  more  can  he  say?  Crandyl,  you  speak. 
You've  been  gaping  like  an  owl  for  the  last  ten 
minutes." 


170    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

Geoffrey  Crandyl  lowered  himself  an  inch  or 
two  in  his  chair,  blew  a  column  of  smoke  toward 
the  ceiling  and  drawled,  lazily: 

"  Well,  if  I  were  Mike,  and  I  were  sent  to  see 
Robert,  I  should  say,  '  Please,  sir,  Mr.  Robert, 
Lord  John  wishes  your  attendance  at  the  Sachem 
at  once,  and  please,  sir,  tell  my  lady  that  he  will 
bring  a  friend  home  to  dinner  with  him.'  Least 
said  soonest  mended,  you  know,  Archie.  It's  all 
rot,  you  know,  making  up  messages  for  this  sort 
of  thing.  Just  tell  the  truth." 

"  What?  "  exclaimed  Buxton.  "  Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  it  is  best  to  send  word  that  Jack's 
nearly  dead,  and  may  be  so  before  they  can  get 
here?  " 

'  Yes,  if  that  were  the  truth,  but  fortunately 
it  isn't.  Send  word  to  what-d'ye-call-him,  Robert, 
that  Hertford  is  here  and  wants  him  at  once. 
That's  enough,  and  it's  the  truth,  too." 

'  You  are  right,  Geoff,"  said  Lord  Quinlan, 
and  so  the  boy  was  despatched. 

It  happened  that  faithful  old  Robert,  having 
delivered  the  cable  message  to  be  forwarded,  had 
hastened  back  to  the  house,  fearful  that  his 
mistress  might  sorely  need  him  in  the  crisis  that 
was  taking  place  in  her  life,  and  he  arrived  there 
only  a  few  moments  after  the  departure  of  John 
Ashton. 


AT  HERTFORD'S  CLUB  171 

Hastening  at  once  to  the  library,  he  found  Lady 
Mercy  still  unconscious  upon  the  sofa,  and  his 
guest  gone. 

For  a  moment  he  believed  that  she  was  dead, 
and  he  stood  beside  her,  not  daring  to  move, 
overwhelmed  by  the  dread  of  what  he  might  find 
if  he  searched  for  cause. 

Her  face  was  like  wax,  with  just  a  faint  sug- 
gestion of  colour  beneath  the  skin.  She  reclined 
quite  at  ease,  as  though  she  were  sleeping,  yet 
there  was  no  gentle  rise  and  fall  of  the  lace  which 
covered  her  bosom;  there  was  no  expansion  and 
contraction  of  that  white  throat,  no  quiver  of  the 
eyelids,  no  fluttering  of  the  long  black  lashes 
that  fringed  them.  She  was  very  still  —  so  still 
that  Robert  was  appalled. 

That  last  frantic  embrace  that  she  had  be- 
stowed upon  Ashton,  and  the  scene  which  fol- 
lowed it,  had  torn  away  the  fastenings  at  her 
neck,  as  it  had  loosed  the  ripples  of  dark  hair, 
which  now  clustered  pathetically  around  the 
white,  still  face,  framing  it,  in  that  darkened 
room,  in  what  seemed  to  be  a  mass  of  ebony,  and 
rendering  her  appearance  more  deathlike  than 
it  really  was. 

Robert  paused  only  for  an  instant,  however. 
Then  he  fell  upon  his  knees  beside  her  and  began 
chafing  her  hands,  calling  her  by  name,  and  en- 


172    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

treating  her  with  all  the  eloquence  he  possessed 
to  open  her  eyes  and  to  speak  to  him ;  to  tell  him 
that  she  was  not  dead.  And  thus  he  sat,  stroking 
her  hands  and  calling  upon  her,  how  long,  he 
never  knew  —  hours  it  seemed  to  him;  until  at 
last  she  sighed  and  breathed,  and  the  old  man 
knew  that  she  was  coming  to  herself  again. 

But  it  was  some  time  longer  before  she  was 
conscious  of  what  was  passing  near  her,  and 
Robert  waited.  Even  his  master  was  forgotten 
during  those  moments  of  agony  when  he  feared 
that  his  lady  would  never  speak  to  him  again,  and 
now  that  consciousness  was  returning  he  could 
wait. 

"John,"  she  murmured;  then,  slowly,  she 
opened  her  eyes  —  great,  sad,  wondering  eyes 
which  did  not  comprehend  what  they  looked 
upon. 

She  fixed  them  upon  her  faithful  servant  and 
held  them  there,  staring  idly  while  she  tried  to 
remember;  and  bit  by  bit  it  all  came  back; 
piece  by  piece  it  all  returned  to  her,  and  the  old 
man  saw  her  tears  gather  and  glide  downward, 
although  she  manifested  no  other  sign  of  weeping. 

At  last,  after  what  seemed  to  be  an  interminable 
period  of  waiting,  she  spoke. 

"  Has  he  gone,  Robert?  "  she  asked,  whisper- 
ing the  words. 


AT  HERTFORD'S  CLUB  173 

"  I  fear  so,  my  lady,"  was  the  heartbroken 
reply. 

"  When? " 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  lady.  He  was  not  here 
when  I  returned." 

Again  she  was  silent  a  long  time;  and  then: 

"  How  long  ago  was  that?  " 

"  An  hour,  perhaps.    I  do  not  know." 

She  closed  her  eyes  again,  to  think,  but  after 
several  moments  opened  them  again. 

"  We  will  follow  him,  Robert,"  she  said. 

"  Follow  him,  my  lady?  How?  We  do  not 
know  where  he  has  gone." 

"  Yes,  Robert,  I  know.  At  least  I  know  where 
he  will  go.  He  will  take  the  first  steamer  that 
sails  for  New  York.  He  almost  told  me  as  much 
as  that.  We  must  be  passengers  on  the  same  — 
hark!  What  was  that?  " 

Robert,  too,  had  started  at  the  sound,  for  it 
had  not  been  heard  in  that  house  in  a  long  time. 

"It  is  the  front  door  bell,  my  lady.  Shall  I 
attend  to  it?  " 

"  Yes  —  yes.  It  may  be  that  he  has  relented 
and  returned.  Go!  Go  quickly!"  and  she  sprang 
from  the  couch  and  began  pacing  the  floor  while 
Robert  hastened  to  reply  to  the  summons. 

The  short  time  that  he  was  away  seemed  end- 
less, though  it  was  in  reality  but  two  or  three 


174    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

minutes;  but  old  as  Robert  was,  he  came  back 
on  a  run,  his  face  beaming,  and  his  whole  being 
convulsed  with  the  joy  of  the  news  he  brought. 

"He  is  found!  He  is  found!"  cried  Robert. 
"  Oh,  my  lady!  I  believe  that  he  has  come  to 
his  senses  at  last!"  and  the  old  man  plunged 
into  a  chair  and  sobbed  with  joy. 

The  countess  started  forward  and  seized  him 
by  the  shoulder. 

"  What  do  you  mean?  Tell  me!  "  she  de- 
manded. 

"  He  has  sent  for  me." 

"Sent  for  — you?" 

"  Yes,  my  lady;  from  the  Sachem.  He  is 
there.  The  boy  said  so.  I  was  to  come  at  once. 
Lord  John  needed  me.  At  the  Sachem,  my  lady 
—  the  little  club  in  Albemarle  Street.  He  is 
there  —  there  at  the  Sachem,  with  Lord  Quinlan 
and  Sir  Thomas  Buxton.  Don't  you  understand? 
He  has  gone  there  —  there  with  his  friends,  and 
they  have  done  what  we  could  not  do ;  they  have 
made  him  remember  who  he  is.  He  is  safe  — 
safe  —  safe!  He  has  remembered.  I  must  go 
at  once  —  at  once;  I  may  go?  " 

'Yes, — yes,  Robert,  go!  Hasten!  Return 
to  me  as  soon  as  you  can ;  or,  if  you  are  delayed, 
send  a  messenger  to  me.  I  shall  —  "  but  she 
ceased  speaking,  for  Robert  was  gone. 


AT  HERTFORD'S  CLUB  175 

"  Has  he  really  remembered? "  she  mused, 
' '  Or  is  it  merely  that  he  has  chanced  to  encounter 
one  or  more  of  his  friends,  again  denied  his 
identity,  and  they  have  sent  for  Robert  to  assist 
them?  " 

She  walked  steadily  up  and  down  the  library 
floor  for  nearly  an  hour,  her  brows  contracted, 
her  hands  clenched  behind  her,  her  head  bent 
forward,  her  whole  attitude  that  of  one  who  is 
confronted  by  a  crisis  which  one  false  move  will 
render  fatal,  and  she  was  preparing  to  encounter 
that  crisis  proudly,  bravely. 

Presently  she  crossed  the  room  and  stood  before 
a  mirror,  gazing  long  and  intently  into  the  clear, 
earnest,  steadfast  depths  of  her  own  honest  eyes; 
peering  by  the  aid  of  the  glass  into  the  utmost 
recesses  of  her  own  soul;  estimating  her  own 
strength;  invoking  to  her  aid,  by  prayer  and  by 
concentration  of  mind,  the  power  of  God  and 
every  dormant  force  within  her. 

"  No  more  sighing;  no  more  weeping;  no  more 
fainting,"  she  murmured  to  the  reflection.  "  I 
am  fighting  for  my  life  and  I  must  not  falter.  I 
am  struggling  for  him,  and  I  must  be  strong  and 
fearless.  There  shall  be  no  hesitation  now;  all 
must  be  firm  and  unyielding.  Pleading  cannot 
win,  force  will.  Argument  will  not  avail,  deter- 
mination must  prevail.  He  shall  see  me,  not  as  I 


176    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

am,  but  as  I  was.    God  is  on  my  side  and  some- 
thing tells  me  that  all  will  be  well." 

She  left  the  library,  went  up  the  stairs  to  her 
own  apartments,  and  an  hour  later,  when  Robert 
returned,  he  found  the  shutters  open,  the  house 
alight,  and  his  mistress  prepared  for  any  emer- 
gency that  might  arise. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   FANCY   OP  DELIRIUM 

JOHN  ASHTON,  still  unconscious,  still  shrouded 
in  that  awful  coma  from  which  the  utmost  efforts 
of  the  doctors  had  failed  to  rouse  him,  was  con- 
veyed to  the  house  of  the  lost  earl  and  laid  upon 
his  bed.  The  Times  and  Telegraph  and  other 
papers  recounted  at  length  the  story  of  the 
accident,  describing  with  considerable  effect  how 
he  had  been  run  down  on  the  street  by  the  horses 
of  his  best  friend,  carried  to  his  favourite  club, 
and  finally  taken  to  his  home.  They  compli- 
mented the  countess  upon  her  remarkable  forti- 
tude in  bearing  up  under  the  shock,  for  at  the 
time  of  going  to  press  it  was  by  no  means  certain 
that  the  earl  would  live.  And  then  —  Heaven 
only  knows  how  they  obtained  the  news,  and  got 
it  so  exactly  alike,  too  —  they  related  how  he  had 
returned  from  the  Continent  the  evening  before 
he  met  with  the  disaster;  had  come  back  intend- 
ing to  open  his  town  house  for  a  short  time  only, 

177 


178    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

and  then  to  retire  to  Hertford  Hall  for  an  in- 
definite period. 

A  short  quotation  from  the  Times  will  not  be 
amiss,  as  bearing  upon  the  method  the  world  took 
to  deceive  itself,  and  to  compel  this  utter  stranger 
to  assume  the  title  and  estates  of  one  of  the 
oldest  and  best  families  in  the  United  King- 
dom: 

The  earl  was  on  his  way  to  the  Sachem  Club  at 
the  time  of  the  accident,  for  it  is  the  favourite 
resort  of  his  most  intimate  friends.  He  knew  that 
it  had  long  been  the  habit  of  Lord  Quinlan  to  break- 
fast there,  and  believed  that  he  would  encounter  him. 

The  year  that  his  Lordship  has  spent  in  travel 
with  his  bride  has  been  as  replete  with  happiness  as 
the  most  earnest  well  wishers  of  the  earl  and  his 
countess  could  desire,  and  it  was  his  intention  to 
complete  the  long  holiday  by  having  at  the  hall  a 
selected  few  of  his  intimates,  and  in  that  way  to  atone 
for  the  long  period  of  silence  that  has  endured  since 
Lady  Mercy  Covington  became  his  bride. 

Now  he  is  stricken  down.  Death  crouches  close 
beside  his  couch  awaiting  an  opportunity  to  leap 
upon  him  unawares,  and  to  tear  him  away  from 
those  who  love  him;  but  there  are  those  on  the 
watch  who  will  be  unceasing  in  their  vigilance. 

The  countess  rarely  leaves  his  bedside,  and  then 


THE  FANCY  OF  DELIRIUM       179 

only  when  fatigue  overcomes  her,  and  she  is  forced 
away  by  her  friends.  By  some  extraordinary  para- 
dox she  has  infinite  faith  in  his  recovery,  even  when 
the  eminent  physicians  in  attendance  upon  his 
Lordship  shake  their  wise  heads  in  despair. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  dwell  further  upon  the 
period  during  which  John  Ashton  was  unconscious 
of  all  things.  It  extended  into  weeks,  and  often 
during  that  time  despair  entered  the  house  only 
again  to  be  expelled  by  hope;  and  at  last  he 
opened  his  eyes  in  the  light  of  understanding  — 
opened  them,  and  saw,  looking  into  his  own,  the 
great,  wistful,  but  steadfast  eyes  of  Lady  Mercy. 
But  he  was  too  weak  to  utter  any  protest  then, 
and  he  closed  them  again,  wondering. 

He  was  conscious  that  she  bent  over  him  and 
that  her  lips  touched  his  forehead.  He  knew 
that  her  hand  rested  upon  his  brow,  and  some- 
how it  gave  him  a  sense  of  infinite  relief,  so  that 
presently  he  slept  again. 

After  that  it  was  always  the  same.  Each  time 
he  opened  his  eyes,  it  was  to  encounter  hers, 
always  tender,  always  wistful,  but  also  unflinch- 
ingly direct,  unfalteringly  earnest,  unqualifiedly 
determined,  and  he  sighed  and  wondered,  know- 
ing that  he  must  wait  for  an  explanation  of  things 
that  he  could  not  understand. 


180    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  The  cablegram  —  what  of  it?  "  he  managed 
on  one  occasion  to  whisper. 

"  You  must  not  think  of  that  now,"  she  re- 
plied. "  Wait  until  you  are  stronger;  then  I  will 
read  it  to  you." 

"You  received  —  an  answer?  Tell  me;  I 
must  know." 

"  Yes,  I  received  a  reply." 

"  Read  it  to  me." 

"  Not  now,  John.  When  you  are  stronger  I 
will  read  it  to  you." 

"  Read  it  to  me  now.  I  must  know  what  it 
said." 

She  realized  that  it  was  best  to  comply  with 
his  request,  so  she  sent  to  her  apartments  for 
the  message  and  read  it  aloud. 

'  Banker  Hollister  alive  and  well.     Does  not 
know  John  Ashton.'    That  is  all,  dear." 

"  All?  "  The  room  seemed  to  be  swimming  in 
chaos,  so  great  was  his  amazement. 

'  Yes,  that  is  all  the  message  contains.  You 
must  not  dwell  upon  these  things  now;  wait 
until  you  are  better  and  then  we  will  discuss 
them." 

"  Does  not  know  John  Ashton?  Does  not  know 
John  Ashton?  "  murmured  the  sick  man  as  if 
he  could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  his  senses. 
"What  does  it  mean?  Alive!  Thank  God  for 


THE  FANCY  OF  DELIRIUM      181 

that!  I  thought  I  killed  him.  He  lives.  Thank 
God!  But  does  not  know  John  Ashton?  What 
does  it  mean?  " 

"  Listen  to  me,  dear,"  said  Lady  Mercy, 
quietly,  but  firmly.  "  I  shall  not  permit  you  to 
talk  any  more  of  this  matter,  but  to  set  your  mind 
at  rest,  I  will  tell  you  a  little  more  if  you  will 
promise  to  dismiss  the  matter  from  your  mind 
until  you  are  well.  Will  you  do  that?  " 

"  I  will  try." 

"  My  friend  has  written  to  me  since  she  sent 
the  message  —  " 

11  Written  to  you?  How  long  ago  was  that? 
How  long  have  I  been  here?  " 

"  Nearly  three  weeks.  Not  another  word, 
now,  or  I  will  leave  you.  Will  you  obey 
me?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Nellie  said  she  could  not  imagine  why  I 
wished  such  strange  information,  but  neverthe- 
less she  went  at  once  to  procure  it.  She  found 
Mr.  Hollister.  He  received  her  at  once.  She 
describes  him  as  a  fine  looking  man  past  middle 
life,  with  smooth  shaven  face,  bushy  hair  and 
brows,  and  piercing  black  eyes.  Wait,  I  will  get 
the  letter  and  read  to  you  from  it,  and  then  you 
must  go  to  sleep  again.  Will  you  be  patient 
while  I  go  to  my  room?  " 


182    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  No ;  tell  me.  It  will  be  as  well, ' '  he  murmured. 
She  took  one  of  his  hands  between  her  own  and 
stroked  it  gently  while  she  continued : 

"  Mr.  Hollister  received  her  very  kindly,  and 
she  told  him  she  had  called  to  inquire  if  he  knew 
or  ever  had  known  a  man  named  John  Ashton, 
whereupon  he  shook  his  head  and  replied  calmly 
that  he  knew  no  such  person,  following  up  the 
answer  by  inquiring  why  she  asked  him  such  a 
question.  Nellie  told  him  that  a  friend  of  hers 
in  London  had  requested  the  information,  and 
she  read  the  message  to  him,  omitting  my  name, 
of  course." 

"  Ah!  Well?    What  did  he  say  then?  " 

"  He  replied:  '  Inform  your  friend  that  I  do 
not  know  and  that  I  never  have  known  a  person 
whose  name  was  John  Ashton.'  That  is  all,  dear, 
and  I  must  insist  that  you  do  not  permit  the 
matter  to  disturb  you  any  more.  When  you  are 
strong  enough,  you  shall  have  the  message  and 
the  letter  to  read,  but  you  must  not  refer  to  the 
subject  again.  And  now  I  am  going  to  leave  you, 
for  you  must  rest.  I  fear  that  I  have  done  wrong 
in  permitting  you  to  refer  to  it  at  all." 

She  bent  over  him,  and  for  one  instant  her  lips 
touched  his;  then,  silently,  she  left  the  room. 

But  though  John  Ashton  closed  his  eyes,  he 
did  not  sleep.  His  mind  kept  busily  at  work  in 


THE  FANCY  OF  DELIRIUM      183 

the  effort  to  unravel  the  tangled  skein  in  which 
he  had  become  involved. 

"It  is  fate,"  he  thought,  "  a  conspiracy  of 
fate.  But  Henry  Hollister  spoke  the  truth; 
he  does  not  know  and  never  has  known  a  person 
whose  name  was  John  Ashton,  for  the  name  was 
never  mine  by  any  right.  But  he  is  not  dead. 
He  lives  and  I  have  one  less  burden  to  bear.  I 
can  see  it  all  now.  The  blow  only  stunned ; 
it  did  not  kill.  He  recovered,  he  found  my  con- 
fession upon  the  table  and  destroyed  it.  Only 
Henry  Hollister  and  I  know  about  that  scene  in 
the  bank.  My  sudden  departure  has  been  ac- 
counted for  in  some  other  way,  and  I  have  been 
repudiated.  He  does  not  know  and  never  has 
known  a  person  whose  name  was  John  Ashton. 
I  never  was  John  Ashton.  Who  am  I?  Who 
am  I  f  " 

His  fever  was  returning.  He  thought  he 
laughed  aloud,  but  he  made  no  sound  that  the 
nurse  sitting  at  the  far  end  of  the  room  could 
hear. 

"  Who  am  I  —  Who  am  I?  Perhaps  I  am  Lord 
John  Hertford.  Perhaps  I  am  the  Earl  of  Ashton 
and  Cowingford.  Everybody  has  conspired  to 
make  me  so ;  it  must  be  so.  Yes  —  yes,  it  must 
be  so.  They  are  right  and  I  am  wrong." 

He    thought  —  he    believed    that    the    words 


184    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

were  shouted  aloud  with  his  utmost  strength. 
He  imagined  he  was  standing  again  in  the  library 
and  that  Robert  and  Lady  Mercy  and  a  throng 
of  people  were  assembled  there.  He  could  see 
them.  They  were  all  pointing  their  fingers  at 
him  and  shouting,  yelling,  screaming  at  him  that 
he  was  John  Ashton.  He  knew  who  he  was. 
He  was  Lord  John  Hertford,  the  lost  earl,  but 
he  could  not  make  them  believe  it. 

They  derided  him,  scoffed  at  him,  scorned  him, 
and  in  that  fever  of  imagination  which  had 
taken  possession  of  him  he  leaped  upon  them; 
he  thrust  them  from  him ;  some  of  them  he  struck 
with  his  fists;  others  he  spat  upon;  oh,  how  he 
struggled,  but  he  could  not  make  them  believe. 
He  could  not  drive  them  from  the  room.  They 
leered  at  him  from  every  shadow,  screeching, 
"  John  Ashton!  John  Ashton!  "  until  the  whole 
world  rang  with  the  denunciation,  and  in  that 
room  there  was  only  one  who  believed  him,  and 
that  was  Sir  Roderick.  True  he  had  been  dead  for 
centuries,  but  his  eyes  still  lived,  and  they  be- 
lieved him.  Yes,  those  wonderful  eyes  believed. 

"  John  Ashton!  John  Ashton!  John  Ashton!  " 
yelled  the  jeering  crowd,  which  had  now  aug- 
mented to  a  multitude;  and  again  he  attacked 
them,  fiercely,  murderously. 

"I  am  not  John  Ashton!"     he    shouted  — 


THE   FANCY  OF  DELIRIUM       185 

and  he  did  shout  it  aloud  this  time,  leaping 
from  his  bed  and  striking  fiercely  at  his  imaginary 
foes,  mad  with  the  fever  that  was  consuming  his 
brain. 

The  nurse  sprang  towards  him.  Lady  Mercy, 
Robert,  and  one  of  the  doctors  ran  into  the  room 
and  attempted  to  seize  him.  He  brushed  them 
aside  as  though  they  were  feathers,  seeing  only 
the  scoffers,  the  deriders,  the  horde  of  friends 
who  would  not  believe. 

11 1  am  not  John  Ashton!  There  is  no  such 
person  as  John  Ashton  —  there  never  was  such 
a  man!  He  does  not  live!  He  never  lived! 
Away,  I  say !  Mock  me  —  mock  me,  if  you  will, 
I  am  not  John  Ashton.  What!  You  do  not  be- 
lieve? Ask  old  Sir  Roderick;  he  knows.  Ask 
the  countess ;  she  knows.  Everybody  knows  but 
you  —  everybody !  I  am  not  John  Ashton !  I 
never  was  John  Ashton!  There  never  was  a 
John  Ashton,  so  how  could  I  be  he?  " 

He  broke  into  a  wild  laugh  and  again  bnished 
his  enemies  aside,  but  the  unnatural  strength 
was  wearing  out. 

"Who  am  I?"  he  continued,  changing  his 
tone,  and  fixing  his  eyes  intently  upon  the  count- 
ess who  was  nearest  to  him. 

All  the  violence  was  gone  now;  only  the  fever 
remained.  All  that  unnatural  strength  was 


186    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

succeeded  by  weakness  so  great  that  he  tottered 
where  he  stood  and  swayed  as  if  he  would  fall, 
and  Lady  Mercy  put  her  arms  around  him  while 
she  led  him  gently  but  firmly  toward  the 
bed. 

"Who  am  I?"  he  repeated  feebly.  "You 
told  me  who  I  was.  Tell  me  again.  You  know; 
Robert  knows;  everybody  except  myself  knows 
who  I  am.  Tell  me  who  I  am.  I  cannot  remember. 
There  is  something  wrong  here  that  will  not  let 
me  remember;  "  and  he  put  one  hand  to  his 
head  in  evident  pain. 

Gently  she  forced  him  back  upon  the  bed  and 
drew  the  covers  over  him;  but  when  she  would 
have  stepped  aside,  he  seized  her  hand  and  held 
it  tightly  in  his  own. 

"Tell  me,"  he  said,  "tell  me  who  I  am!  I 
cannot  remember." 

'You  are  Lord  John  Hertford,  dear,"  she 
murmured,  "  but  more  than  all  else,  you  are  my 
husband." 

'  Yes  —  yes,  that  is  it ;  that  is  it ;  I  am 
Lord  John  Hertford.  I  will  remember  now.  I 
will  not  forget  again.  Strange  —  strange  — 
strange,  that  I  should  have  forgotten.  And  you 
are  Hope,  are  you  not?  You  are  Hope?  " 

1  Yes,  I  am  your  hope.  Will  you  be  quiet, 
now,  John? " 


THE  FANCY  OF  DELIRIUM       187 

"  Yes  —  yes,  I  will  be  quiet  if  you  are  Hope 
—  my  Hope.  You  said  that,  did  you  not?  My 
Hope?  Let  me  hold  your  hand  and  I  will  be 
very  quiet.  I  am  so  tired;  so  tired.  I  have  had 
a  long  tramp  —  such  a  long  tramp.  Yes  —  yes, 
I  will  rest  now;  but  I  am  not  John  Ashton;  you 
know  that  I  am  not  John  Ashton,  do  you  not? 
Tell  me!  " 

1  Yes,  I  know  that  you  are  not  John  Ashton, 
dear." 

She  motioned  to  the  others  to  leave  the  room, 
and  when  they  were  gone,  she  fell  upon  her  knees 
beside  the  bed,  and  still  holding  his  hand  clasped 
between  her  own,  she  bowed  her  head  upon  his 
breast  and  prayed;  and  while  she  was  praying, 
sleep  crept  silently  into  his  brain  and  took  posses- 
sion ;  and  the  burden  of  her  prayer  was  a  thanks- 
giving to  God  that  even  in  his  fevered  dementia 
he  had  remembered  who  he  really  was;  and  she 
prayed  that  when  his  understanding  returned, 
he  might  still  remember;  that  he  might  be  per- 
mitted to  awake  from  his  slumber,  master  of  the 
faculties  that  she  believed  he  had  lost. 

So  at  last  she  rose  from  her  position  and  stood 
beside  him,  looking  down  upon  him  with  all  the 
love  of  a  woman's  soul  in  her  calm,  unfaltering, 
steadfast  gaze. 

Presently  she  turned   away  and,   calling  the 


188    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

nurse  to  his  bedside,  went  silently  to  her  own 
room,  where  behind  closed  doors  she  sank  upon 
her  knees  again  and  prayed  on,  earnestly,  fer- 
vently, beseechingly. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WHAT   HAPPENED    DURING    CONVALESCENCE 

THE  relapse  into  which  John  Ashton  had  been 
thrown  by  his  interview  with  Lady  Mercy  proved 
to  be  serious,  so  that  for  many  days  after  the 
occurrence,  his  life  was  despaired  of.  But  the 
crisis  passed  and  hope  returned  to  the  weary  and 
anxious  hearts  that  were  watching  over  him. 

Days  lengthened  into  weeks  and  weeks  into 
nearly  two  months,  however,  before  he  was  strong 
enough,  propped  by  pillows,  to  sit  up  in  bed,  and 
respond  to  questions  addressed  to  him;  and  as 
such  questions  had  only  to  do  with  his  physical 
condition,  they  were  infrequent  and  unimportant 
so  far  as  his  convalescence  was  concerned. 

Never,  during  that  anxious  time,  was  the  sub- 
ject that  was  uppermost  in  his  thoughts  referred 
to  in  any  way  by  anybody. 

Lady  Mercy,  who  throughout  his  waking  hours, 
was  almost  constantly  by  his  side,  avoided  the 
subject  as  she  would  have  avoided  a  deadly 
poison,  and  if  by  chance  she  detected  an  expres- 

180 


190    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

sion  in  his  eyes  which  portended  a  return  to  it 
by  himself,  she  escaped  from  the  room  without 
delay. 

But,  if  she  could  have  known,  he  was  as  deter- 
mined to  let  the  matter  rest  as  she  was.  He 
thought  of  it  often  —  indeed  it  was  rarely  absent 
from  his  mind,  but  he  had  decided  not  to  refer  to 
it  again  until  he  was  once  more  possessed  of 
sufficient  strength  to  face  the  world  alone. 

What  he  would  do  when  that  time  came,  he 
had  not  decided.  There  was  time  enough  for 
that,  and  meanwhile  he  could  think  and  plan; 
and  that  was  what  he  did,  unceasingly,  but  never 
with  that  calm  judgment  and  care  which  was  an 
essential  part  of  the  character  of  the  man. 

His  faculties,  like  his  muscles,  were  weak  and 
emaciated,  incapable  of  deliberation  and  con- 
secutive reasoning,  and  the  nurses  and  doctors, 
and  such  others  as  entered  his  presence,  "  mi- 
lorded  "  and  "  lord  Johned  "  him  without  in- 
terruption or  protest  on  his  part. 

During  the  first  days  of  returned  consciousness, 
whenever  the  countess  was  within  the  range  of 
his  vision,  his  eyes  never  left  her  face.  He  watched 
her  all  the  time  with  an  intermixture  of  wonder 
and  awe  and  reverence;  and  she  met  his  gaze 
always  with  a  smile  of  reassurance,  and  went 
about  her  duties  with  an  unvarying  calm  and 


DURING  CONVALESCENCE        191 

assurance  of  possession  which  created  an  im- 
passable barrier  between  her  and  argument  or 
opposition. 

He  made  no  comment  when  she  addressed  him 
in  endearing  terms;  he  had  not  the  strength, 
nor  the  energy,  and  he  knew  that  opposition 
could  do  no  good;  and  so,  while  he  gradually 
became  better  and  stronger,  he  permitted  things 
to  drift  along  as  they  were,  without  in  the  least 
realizing  that  he  was  day  by  day  getting  deeper 
and  deeper  within  the  maze  of  a  tangle  from 
which  extrication  would  some  day  be  next  to 
impossible. 

Lord  Archie  Quinlan  called  every  day  and  some- 
times oftener  during  the  twenty-four  hours; 
but  he  was  not  permitted  to  see  the  patient, 
although  Ashton  was  told  of  his  visits,  his  solici- 
tude and  his  anxiety. 

Other  members  of  the  Sachem,  and  of  other 
clubs,  where  the  earl  had  held  membership,  were 
also  indefatigable  in  their  inquiries,  and  in  many 
of  the  clubs  bulletins  were  posted  every  evening, 
stating  with  great  minuteness  the  condition  of 
the  injured  man. 

Cards  were  left  at,  or  sent  to,  the  house  by  the 
hundreds;  letters  expressive  of  sympathy  sur- 
feited the  post  bag ;  messages  came  from  abroad, 
and  the  whole  world  seemed  to  know  that  Lord 


192    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

John  Hertford  was  at  his  London  home  battling 
with  death. 

But  Ashton  knew  little  of  these  things,  and 
heard  of  them  only  when  card,  letter  or  message 
came  from  some  one  who  had  been  an  especial 
favourite  with  the  earl  —  then,  indeed,  the  count- 
ess mentioned  the  fact  casually,  in  the  hope  that 
there  would  be  some  expression  of  appreciation 
on  his  part,  but  always  without  success. 

One  day  she  said  to  him,  quite  suddenly : 

"  John,  dear,  I  have  received  such  a  lovely 
letter  from  Agnes  Dunmore.  She  is  in  Egypt 
with  her  mother.  Would  you  like  me  to  read  it 
to  you?  " 

"  No,"  he  replied;  "  I  do  not  care  to  hear  it." 

"  You  used  to  be  so  fond  of  her,  John." 

"Did  I?"  he  smiled  in  reply,  and  made  no 
further  remark;  and  after  that,  the  countess 
rarely  reminded  him  of  absent  friends. 

One  day  he  asked  for  Robert,  and  when  the 
old  man,  rejoiced  by  the  summons,  came  to  him, 
he  said: 

"  Robert,  do  you  remember  telling  me  about 
Mr.  Richard  Hertford?  " 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  John,"  was  the  reply.  "  We 
talked  about  him  the  evening  you  came  home. 
I  remember  it  very  well." 

f<  Do  you  know  his  present  address?  " 


DURING  CONVALESCENCE       193 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Is  there  any  way  in  which  you  can  find  it 
out?  " 

"  I  fear  not.  His  bankers  might  know  it,  but 
sometimes  they  are  months  at  a  time  without 
news  of  him." 

"  I  wish  you  would  make  the  effort.  If  his 
address  can  be  ascertained,  I  wish  you  to  write 
to  him  at  once  and  request  him  to  return  without 
delay.  Will  you  attend  to  it?  " 

"  Immediately." 

"  Very  good.  Let  me  know  when  it  is  done. 
That  is  all  at  present." 

Robert  repeated  the  conversation  to  his  mis- 
tress. 

She  thought  deeply  before  she  replied ;  but  at 
last  she  said: 

"It  is  a  good  plan.  I  heartily  wish  Richard 
were  here,  but  he  dislikes  being  called  home,  and 
I  greatly  doubt  if  he  will  come,  even  if  he  receives 
the  word." 

"  Refuse  to  come  when  Mr.  Jack  is  so  ill?  " 
exclaimed  Robert,  aghast. 

Lady  Mercy  smiled. 

"  You  forget,  Robert,  that  Mr.  Hertford  is 
probably  so  far  away  that  it  will  take  months 
for  a  letter  to  get  to  him,  and  more  months  for 
him  to  get  here.  He  would  argue  that  the  letter 


194    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

had  been  so  long  on  the  way,  and  it  would  con- 
sume so  much  more  time  for  him  to  reply  to  it 
in  person,  that  his  cousin  would  be  either  re- 
covered, or  —  dead  before  he  could  get  here  — 
and  he  would  not  start.  He  would  be  rejoiced 
by  the  first  condition  and  pained  by  the  other, 
for  we  both  know  how  fond  he  always  was  of  the 
earl.  He  cares  nothing  for  the  title  and  he  does 
not  want  the  estates.  No,  he  would  not  come, 
unless  he  had  completed  his  tour,  and  in  that 
case  he  will  soon  be  at  home,  anyway.  You  may 
procure  his  address,  if  it  is  possible  to  do  so,  and 
I  will  write  to  him,  leaving  the  matter  so  that 
he  can  act  upon  his  own  judgment  when  he  re- 
ceives the  letter." 

The  address  was,  however,  not  procurable, 
and  so  Robert  told  Ashton  when  he  was  again 
called  to  the  bedside;  and  the  stricken  man  only 
sighed  and  closed  his  eyes. 

Nearly  three  months  had  elapsed  after  the 
accident,  before  John  Ashton  was  able  to  don 
his  outer  garments  and  sit  by  the  window  where 
he  could  look  out  upon  the  street,  but  after  that 
he  spent  every  day  there,  with  Lady  Mercy  at 
his  side.  They  conversed  upon  almost  every 
subject  which  the  ingenuity  of  either  could  sug- 
gest, save  that  one  which  was  uppermost  in  the 
minds  of  each,  affecting  her  with  a  terror  un- 


DURING  CONVALESCENCE        195 

namable,  lest  he  should  still  have  preserved  the 
hallucinations  of  the  past,  and  him  with  reluctance 
against  the  time  when  it  should  be  necessary  to 
call  up  in  her  earnest  eyes  that  expression  of 
pain  and  horror  he  had  once  seen  there. 

He  meant  that  the  time  should  come  when  he 
would  speak  again,  and  to  some  purpose  —  but 
not  yet  —  not  yet.  When  he  should  be  stronger ; 
when  he  was  well  again  —  but  not  till  then. 

There  was  only  one  way  in  which  he  offended 
her  now,  and  she  noticed  it  with  dismay,  al- 
though she  made  no  comment.  He  never  used 
any  name  in  addressing  her.  True,  he  did  not 
call  her  madam,  as  he  had  done  when  they  talked 
together  the  first  time,  for  he  noticed  that  when 
he  did  so  during  the  first  days  of  his  convales- 
cence, it  pained  her;  so  now,  he  used  no  form  of 
address  whatever ;  nor  was  it  necessary,  for  when 
she  was  in  the  room  she  was  constantly  at  his 
side,  and  whenever  he  raised  his  eyes  her  own 
warm,  sympathetic  glance  met  them. 

Thus  they  drifted  on,  becoming  more  and  more 
intimately  acquainted,  she,  on  her  part,  detect- 
ing many  traits  of  character  and  disposition  that 
were  different  from  those  possessed  by  the  man 
she  had  married,  but  attributing  them  all  to 
what  she  regarded  as  the  natural  cause ;  and  he, 
on  his  part,  learning  more  and  more  each  day  of 


196    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

the  beauty  of  her  matchless  character,  of  the 
infinite  goodness  of  her  soul  and  of  the  indomi- 
table steadfastness  of  purpose  which  actuated  her 
every  impulse. 

All  the  love  she  had  bestowed  upon  her  lost 
husband,  she  gave  ten  times  over  to  the  man  upon 
whom  she  lavished  such  tender  and  unceasing 
care.  It  vibrated  in  every  tone  that  she  uttered; 
it  glowed  in  every  glance  of  her  expressive  eyes; 
it  thrilled  in  every  touch  of  her  taper  fingers;  it 
dwelt  in  her  presence  and  filled  the  room  when 
she  entered  it  —  remained  there  when  she  was 
gone. 

A  human  being  may  not  plunge  headforemost 
into  the  sea  without  becoming  wet,  nor  can  he 
become  ingulfed  in  an  ocean  of  love  without 
feeling  and  realizing  and  at  last  succumbing  to 
the  irresistible  element  that  surrounds  him.  Go- 
liath, sleeping,  may  be  chained  down  by  pigmies. 
John  Ashton,  dormant,  passive,  submissive,  could 
not  escape  the  influence  which  closed  tighter  and 
more  tightly  around  him  with  every  hour  of 
every  day. 

Whenever  the  countess  entered  the  room,  he 
was  instantly  aware  of  it,  although  he  heard  no 
sound.  If  she  came  behind  him  and  reached  out 
her  hand  to  touch  his  brow,  he  knew  the  beginning 
of  the  act  as  well  as  the  result  of  it,  for  he  could 


DURING  CONVALESCENCE       197 

feel  the  increasing  warmth  that  came  with  its 
nearer  approach. 

If,  from  a  distant  part  of  the  room,  she  per- 
mitted her  eyes  to  dwell  upon  him,  he  was  in- 
stantly conscious  of  her  gaze,  and  it  soothed  and 
quieted  him;  and  when,  hours  at  a  time,  she  sat 
beside  him  with  his  hand  clasped  in  hers,  he 
experienced  something  akin  to  the  rapture  of  a 
babe  resting  on  its  mother's  breast  —  that  ab- 
sence of  all  emotion,  which  is  the  purest  and 
holiest  peace  induced  by  the  fulness  of  love. 

If,  by  chance,  she  was  absent  from  his  side 
longer  than  was  her  habit,  he  became  fretful, 
uneasy,  anxious,  impatient,  and  he  would  con- 
vince himself  that  the  bright  light  through  the 
window  was  oppressive,  and  order  his  chair 
turned  so  that  he  could  watch  the  door  through 
which  she  must  appear  when  she  came  to  him; 
and  when  she  came,  he  would  turn  again  toward 
the  light,  forgetting  that  it  had  annoyed  him. 

Thus,  steadily  he  became  stronger.  The  chair 
at  the  window,  with  every  journey  that  he  madebe- 
tween  it  and  the  bed,  became  less  distant  and  easier 
of  accomplishment,  and  he  realized  that  the  time  was 
approaching  when  he  must  fulfil  his  destiny  and  go. 

But  the  anticipation  of  it,  instead  of  giving 
him  joy,  inspired  him  with  dread  —  indefinable, 
unreasonable,  relentless  dread. 


CHAPTER  XV 

WHICH   OF   TWO    EVILS? 

WHILE  John  Ashton  was  daily  becoming 
stronger,  his  friends  were  more  and  more  impatient 
to  see  him,  and  among  the  most  persistent  of 
these  were  Lord  Archie  Quinlan  and  Sir  Thomas 
Buxton. 

Geoffrey  Crandyl  contented  himself  with  send- 
ing a  short  note  in  which  he  said  that  he  kept 
close  watch  of  the  bulletins,  but  that  he  would 
not  attempt  to  intrude  himself  upon  his  old 
friend  until  he  was  assured  that  his  presence  was 
desired.  In  the  meantime,  etc.,  etc. 

Ashton,  on  the  other  hand,  steadily  resisted 
these  advances  and  paid  no  heed  to  a  message 
that  Quinlan  sent  him,  protesting  that,  unless  he 
was  soon  received,  he  would  be  forced  to  the 
conclusion  that  Lord  John  censured  him  for  the 
accident,  for  which  he  was  really  in  no  way  re- 
sponsible. 

One  day,  however,  while  he  was  smoking  his 
cigar  by  the  window,  having  arrived  at  that  stage 

198 


WHICH  OF  TWO  EVILS?         199 

in  his  recovery  when  he  could  move  about  the 
room,  in  which,  however,  he  was  still  confined, 
Robert  came  to  him  with  the  information  that 
Lord  Archie  was  in  the  library  and  would  not 
take  No  for  an  answer  —  in  short,  that  he  in- 
sisted upon  seeing  his  friend,  or  upon  being  told 
that  the  acquaintance  was  no  longer  desired. 

"  Be  it  so,  then,"  he  replied.  "  I  do  not  wish 
to  see  him.  I  do  not  blame  him  for  the  accident ; 
you  may  tell  him  that  as  strongly  as  you  can  put 
it;  but  I  do  not  care  to  see  him  or  anybody." 

Robert  was  in  the  act  of  turning  sadly  away  to 
deliver  the  message,  when  they  were  both  startled 
by  the  sudden  appearance  of  Quinlan  himself, 
who  had  followed  Robert  up  the  stairs  and  was 
standing  in  the  open  doorway. 

"  I'm  here,  Jack,  anyway,  whether  you  like 
it  or  not,"  he  said,  advancing  into  the  room. 
"  You  are  obliged  to  see  me  for  a  moment. 
What  in  the  world  is  the  reason  you  are  so  offish? 
Surely  you  do  not  blame  me  for  that  unfortunate 
accident?  " 

"  I  certainly  do  not,"  replied  Ashton,  coldly. 
"  I  alone  am  responsible  for  it." 

"  Then  why  have  you  so  persistently  refused 
to  see  me?  " 

"  I  am  not  well,  and  I  prefer  to  see  nobody. 
That  is  the  only  reason." 


200    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  But  you  are  nearly  recovered  now." 

"  Nearly,  yes.    But  not  quite." 

"  You  are  not  at  all  like  yourself,  Jack,"  said 
Archie,  after  a  moment's  pause. 

"  Not  as  you  expected  to  find  me,  you  mean. 
No,  I  am  not.  I  doubt  if  I  ever  will  be  just  what 
you  mean." 

"  Nonsense!  Why  do  you  feel  that  way,  old 
chap?  " 

Ashton  smiled,  and  replied,  coolly: 

"  There  are  physical,  mental,  moral,  logical, 
and  personal  reasons,  too  numerous  to  mention." 

Quinlan  laughed  heartily. 

"  Then,  for  heaven's  sake,  do  not  go  into  them. 
I  won't  pretend  to  have  the  capacity  to  under- 
stand them;  but  that  reply  sounded  more  like 
you  than  anything  you  have  said  since  I  entered 
the  room.  Do  you  know  that  Bux,  and  Geoff 
Crandyl  are  quite  as  anxious  and  done  up  about 
your  exclusiveness  as  I  am?  Won't  you  see  them, 
Jack?  It  will  do  them  no  end  of  good." 

"  After  a  while  —  perhaps.  At  present,  no." 
'  What  the  devil  is  the  matter  with  you,  any- 
way? " 

"  I  have  grown  weary  of  attempting  to  ex- 
plain what  is  the  matter  with  me.  You  stated 
a  moment  ago  that  I  am  not  at  all  like  myself. 
Suppose  we  let  it  go  at  that." 


WHICH  OF  TWO  EVILS?         201 

"  You  may,  but  I  won't;  nor  will  the  others. 
Are  those  broken  bones  all  mended?  " 

"Yes;  every  one.  Physical  strength  is  all 
that  I  need  now." 

"  You  won't  be  long  in  regaining  that." 

"  No ;  another  week  or  two  will  fix  me  all  right." 

"  And  then?  I  say,  you  will  let  us  give  you  a 
dinner;  eh?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not,  thank  you.  As  soon  as  I 
am  able  to  travel,  I  shall  go  away." 

"  Where  are  you  going?  " 

"  I  have  not  decided." 

"  Well,  I  won't  bore  you  any  longer  now,  and  I 
distinctly  refuse  to  pay  any  attention  to  your 
coolness  to-day.  Shake  hands  now,  as  proof 
that  you  forgive  me  for  running  over  you,  and 
I'll  get  along  and  tell  the  fellows  what  an  in- 
sufferable bear  you  are." 

He  extended  his  hand  and  Ashton  took  it. 
For  a  moment  they  were  both  silent,  and  then 
Quinlan  spoke  again. 

"  That's  more  like  you.  You'll  get  out  of  this 
condition  soon.  In  the  meantime,  do  not  sup- 
pose that  we  are  going  to  permit  you  to  have  your 
own  way,  for  we  haven't  the  slightest  intention 
of  doing  so." 

When  he  was  gone  Ashton  began  to  reflect. 

"  This   is   only   the  beginning,"    he   thought 


202     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  There  is  worse,  far  worse  to  come.  I  must  get 
well  quickly  and  go  away.  I  wish  that  I  were 
strong  enough  to  travel  now;  I  would  go  to- 
night —  but  that  is  not  to  be  thought  of." 

He  leaned  back  and  closed  his  eyes  in  the  effort 
to  plan  out  the  form  of  leave  taking  he  would 
adopt  when  the  time  came  for  his  last  interview 
with  the  countess.  Methods  innumerable  sug- 
gested themselves  to  him,  but  one  by  one  were 
thrust  aside  as  impracticable,  ineffectual,  incon- 
sistent, or  impossible. 

Lately  —  since  he  had  been  able  to  do  so  —  he 
had  read  the  papers  exhaustively,  and  he  knew 
that  the  whole  world  in  which  the  Earl  of  Ashton 
and  Cowingford  had  lived  and  moved  was 
familiar  with  the  accident,  its  cause  and  its 
results.  For  the  first  time,  a  realization  of  the 
full  effect  that  his  sudden  and  unexplained  de- 
parture would  have  upon  the  countess  forced 
itself  upon  him  —  and  he  shuddered  when  he 
thought  of  it.  At  that  moment,  too,  she  entered 
the  room  for  some  article  that  she  had  left  there, 
spoke  cheerily  to  him  and  passed  out  again. 
Ashton  sighed  and  then  groaned  aloud,  for  she 
had  brought  with  her  something  that  he  had  not 
faced  before  —  a  realization  of  the  full  effect  that 
his  sudden  and  unexplained  departure  would 
have  upon  himself. 


WHICH  OF  TWO  EVILS?         203 

He  had  not  forgotten  Hope  Hollister.  He 
thought  of  her  daily  —  almost  hourly  —  but  he 
dwelt  upon  her  memory  as  the  recollection  of 
one  who  was  dead,  while  this  new  love  had  some- 
thing within  it  that  had  never  formed  a  Com- 
ponent part  of  his  love  for  Hope. 

She  had  been  the  passion  of  his  life ;  Mercy  was 
its  completeness.  Hope  had  preempted  the 
ardour  of  his  youth  and  growing  manhood; 
Mercy  was  the  acme  of  all  things  desirable  to 
attain.  Hope  was  a  memory ;  Mercy  was  a  living, 
breathing,  present  fact.  Hope  had  taught  him 
the  rudiments  of  love;  Mercy  completed  the 
education.  He  saw  in  the  present  the  fulfilment 
of  every  dream  of  the  past.  Through  Hope,  he 
had  created  an  ideal ;  in  Mercy  that  ideal  existed. 

The  plain,  sad  truth  came  home  to  him  with 
all  its  force,  now  that  he  thought  of  tearing  him- 
self away  from  the  presence  of  that  gentle  nurse, 
that  constant  companion  of  his  bedridden  hours, 
that  loving  woman,  and  he  realized  that  all  the 
agony  he  had  suffered  by  reason  of  his  separation 
from  Hope  Hollister  was  only  a  drop  in  the  bucket 
compared  to  the  awful  moment  that  would  bring 
him  face  to  face  with  eternal  separation  from 
Lady  Mercy  Hertford. 

Still,  full  justice  must  be  accorded  to  John 
Ashton,  for  it  was  not  of  himself  that  he  thought ; 


204    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

it  was  of  her,  and  the  effect  that  his  going  would 
have  upon  her. 

"  This  world  of  hers  believes  that  I  am  her 
husband,"  he  thought.  "  It  knows,  or  thinks 
that  it  knows  —  and  it  is  the  same  thing  —  that 
the  earl  is  here.  It  believes  that  we,  the  countess 
and  I,  have  been  abroad  during  the  past  year  — 
that  we  returned  to  London  together.  It  knows 
nothing  of  the  disappearance  of  the  earl,  or  of 
the  terrible  trials  through  which  the  countess 
has  passed.  It  expects  me  to  appear  —  or,  as 
that  same  world  would  term  it,  to  reappear,  and 
to  assume  all  the  prerogatives  of  Lord  John." 

He  hesitated,  and  shuddered;  and  then  his 
mind  plunged  again  into  that  chaos  of  circum- 
stance which  surrounded  him  on  every  side. 

"  Suppose  that  I  permit  things  to  drift  on  as 
they  are  until  I  am  strong  enough  to  travel,  and 
then,  at  the  first  opportunity,  steal  away  like  a 
thief  in  the  night,  for  ever,  leaving  only  a  letter 
for  her  to  explain  why  I  go ;  telling  perhaps  of  my 
love  for  her;  going  over,  for  the  second  time, 
that  history  of  the  past  which  I  would  rather 
forget;  reaffirming  my  true  identity  with  all 
the  force  at  my  command;  repudiating,  utterly, 
all  knowledge  of  the  earl,  of  his  past,  his  present, 
or  his  future;  reasserting  that  I  never  in  my  life 
saw  Robert  until  the  moment  when  he  met  me 


WHICH  OF  TWO  EVILS?         205 

on  the  corner  of  St.  James  Street  and  Piccadilly, 
and  mistook  me  for  his  master  —  that  I  never  in 
my  life  saw  her  until  I  looked  into  her  eyes  through 
the  holes  that  Robert  had  cut  in  the  portrait 
of  Sir  Roderick.  If  I  recite  my  duty  to  her,  to 
the  world  in  which  she  lives,  to  the  friends  of  the 
lost  earl,  to  the  Hertford  family,  to  Richard 
Herndon  Hertford,  the  cousin  who  should  suc- 
ceed to  the  title  —  to  God !  What  will  it  all 
avail?  She  will  not  believe.  No,  no;  it  would 
be  better  —  far  better,  if  I  should  go  and  say 
nothing.  Better  still,  if  I  should  go  without 
denying  the  identity  with  which  she  and  others 
have  invested  me,  leaving  behind  me  the  im- 
pression that  it  is  some  other  and  unnamable 
reason  that  drives  me  hence.  Better  still,  for 
her  sake  that  I  should  drive  a  murderous  knife 
into  her  tender  heart,  and  so  still  it  for  ever,  and 
end  its  sufferings  for  all  time,  and  to  eternity. 

'  Then,  if  I  go,  what  is  the  legacy  that  I  leave 
behind  me?  I  condemn  her,  for  ever,  to  the  very 
torture  that  for  an  entire  year  she  has  so  heroically 
combated.  I  condemn  her  to  a  lifetime  of  regret, 
remorse,  suffering,  shame;  for  she  will  feel  the 
remorse  and  imagine  the  shame  even  though 
there  shall  exist  no  cause  for  either.  I  drag  the 
name  that  she  has  struggled  to  preserve  inviolate 
through  this  trying  time  —  I  drag  that  name  into 


206    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

the  realm  of  rebuke,  I  cover  it  with  shame  and 
ignominy,  I  destroy  for  ever  the  character  of 
Lord  John  Hertford,  I  estrange  his  friends,  I  hold 
him  up  for  all  time  to  censure  and  to  contempt. 

"  She  will  never  believe  that  I  am  not  her 
husband.  The  world  will  never  believe  that  I 
am  not  the  Earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford.  I 
cannot  prove  that  I  am  not  he.  I  have  nothing 
except  the  baptismal  right  to  the  name  that  I 
have  always  borne,  and  Henry  Hollister  will 
deny  me  even  that  right. 

"  There  are  those  in  New  York  who  would 
know  me,  but  have  I  the  right  or  is  it  my  duty  to 
call  upon  them  to  the  chagrin  and  public  shame 
of  the  woman  who  claims  to  be  my  wife? 

"  I  cannot  prove  my  identity.  I  cannot  con- 
vince Mercy  of  the  truth.  I  cannot  convince 
this  world  of  hers  of  its  error.  I  cannot  bring 
sorrow,  perhaps  death  or  insanity,  upon  the 
woman  I  love  and  who  loves  me  with  all  her 
heart  and  soul  and  strength. 

"  Oh,  God,  in  mercy  make  plain  to  me  the  path 
that  I  must  tread !  In  pity,  show  me  the  way  that 
I  must  go!  In  charity  for  all,  invest  me  with  the 
knowledge  to  choose  between  two  great  evils, 
that  which  is  the  lesser." 

Tears  of  anguish  oozed  between  his  fingers  as 
he  bowed  his  head  upon  his  hands. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE    QUALITY    OF   A    SIN 

JOHN  ASHTON  did  not  raise  his  head  again  for 
a  long  time,  and  when  he  did,  the  same  doubt 
and  perplexity  were  in  his  eyes  and  upon  his 
face. 

"  Let  me  look  upon  the  other  side  of  the  pic- 
ture, in  all  its  hideousness,"  he  murmured;  and 
then  lapsed  again  into  thought. 

"  Suppose  that  I  were  to  remain?  Suppose 
that  I  were  to  accept,  passively,  the  decree  that 
has  been  passed  upon  me?  Suppose  that  I  no 
longer  deny  that  I  am  the  Earl  of  Ashton  and 
Cowingford?  Suppose  I  usurp  his  prerogatives, 
his  title,  his  estates,  his  personal  effects  —  his 
wife ! " 

He  rose  from  his  chair  and  crossed  the  room; 
turned  and  retraced  his  steps  to  the  chair  again. 
His  hands  were  clenched ;  his  face  was  white  and 
drawn;  his  lips  moved,  although  he  uttered  no 
sound;  his  brows  were  wrinkled,  and  his  eyes 
looked  wild  and  haggard. 

207 


208    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  What  then?  "  he  mused. 

"  That  Lord  John  Hertford  is  dead,  I  verily 
believe  —  but  the  Earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowing- 
ford  lives.  He  cannot  die  until  the  family  becomes 
extinct.  He  lives  in  the  being  of  that  cousin 
Richard  who  is  wandering,  God  knows  where,  in 
search  of  game  and  adventure.  I  would  to  God 
that  he  were  here.  Something  tells  me  that  he 
would  listen  to  and  believe  me  —  that  he  alone 
could  convince  Mercy  of  her  error. 

"  If  I  remain,  the  day  of  his  return  will  come 
-  what  then?  Will  he  also  deceive  himself  as  the 
others  have  done?  Will  he  insist,  even  against 
my  protestations,  that  I  am  Lord  John?  Will 
he,  too,  force  me  into  the  retention  of  estates 
that  are  really  his,  and  address  me  by  a  title  that 
should  belong  to  him?  Or  will  his  penetration 
be  keener,  clearer  and  truer,  and  when  I  go  to 
him,  as  I  surely  will,  if  that  time  ever  comes,  and 
tell  him  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing 
but  the  truth  —  what  then?  What  then?  " 

Again  he  got  upon  his  feet  and  strode  across 
the  floor,  pausing  at  intervals  while  he  walked, 
passing  his  hands  in  despair  across  his  forehead, 
and  sighing  deeply. 

'  What  is  the  quality  of  the  sin  that  I  commit 
if  I  remain?  What  is  the  quality  of  the  sin  that 
I  commit  if  I  go  away?  "  he  asked  himself. 


THE  QUALITY  OF  A  SIN        209 

"  There  is  no  question  here  between  right  and 
wrong;  it  is  a  question  between  sin  and  sin. 
Shall  I  sin  against  Richard  Hertford,  or  shall  I 
sin  against  Mercy?  Shall  I  steal  from  him  a 
title  for  which  he  does  not  care,  and  estates 
which  he  neither  values  nor  needs,  or  shall  I 
steal  from  her,  her  happiness,  her  reason,  perhaps 
her  life? 

"  Shall  I,  in  order  that  he  may  inherit  that  which 
he  has  never  expected  to  attain,  condemn  her 
to  misery?  Shall  I,  in  order  that  he  may  assume 
the  title  of  earl,  trample  upon  her  pride  and  put 
an  indelible  stain  upon  the  name  of  Hertford? 

"  If  I  remain,  there  is  only  one  course  for  me 
to  pursue,  proud  assumption  of  all  that  is  ex- 
pected of  me,  wilful  murder  of  my  own  memory, 
secret  marriage  —  remarriage,  she  will  call  it  — 
with  the  countess.  If  I  go,  there  is  only  one 
journey  that  I  can  take  —  suicide. 

"  Yes,  that  is  it.  It  is  the  only  way.  That  is 
the  solution.  I  will  kill  myself,"  he  cried  aloud. 
"  It  shall  be  suicide.  It  is  the  only  outlet  that  is 
left.  She  will  forgive  and  forget.  Her  world  will 
forget  and  therefore  forgive. 

"  The  Times  will  say  that  Lord  John,  suffer- 
ing from  dementia  induced  by  the  unfortunate 
accident  in  Piccadilly,  in  a  moment  of  madness 
took  his  own  life.  She  will  mourn  for  me  but  she 


210    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

will  not  censure.  She  will  grieve  for  me,  but  she 
will  love  again,  remarry,  and  forget.  Yes,  yes! 
That  is  the  solution.  Suicide.  I  will  kill  myself. 
Ah!" 

He  had  turned  and  found  that  Lady  Mercy  was 
standing  not  three  paces  away,  and  he  knew  that 
she  had  heard  the  words  he  had  uttered  aloud. 

Her  face  was  deathly  white,  and  her  eyes  were 
wide  with  horror ;  but  when  she  spoke,  her  words 
came  calmly  and  distinctly. 

"  John,"  she  said,  "  what  is  it  I  heard?  What 
were  you  saying?  I  did  not  hear  aright,  did  I?  " 

He  went  nearer  and  took  one  of  her  hands  in 
his. 

"  Sit  down,  Mercy,"  he  said  tenderly. 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  addressed  her 
thus,  and  it  brought  a  flush  of  pleasure  to  her 
cheeks  —  a  flush  that  fled  almost  as  soon  as  it 
appeared. 

"  The  time  has  come  when  we  must  go  over 
again  that  old  subject  that  is  your  despair,  but 
we  will  go  over  it  calmly  now.  It  shall  be  dis- 
cussed without  excitement,  and  as  there  is  a 
God  above  us,  whose  blessing  you  deserve,  you 
shall  pass  judgment  upon  me,  and  by  your  de- 
cision I  will  abide.  Will  you  be  calm  and  listen 
to  me  with  care,  and  if  you  can,  with  confidence 
in  my  sincerity,  even  though  you  still  regard 


THE  QUALITY  OF  A  SIN        211 

me  as  the  victim  of  an  hallucination.  Will  you 
do  that?  " 

"  Yes,  John." 

"  Will  the  repetition  of  all  that  I  have  said  to 
you  on  this  subject  influence  you?  If  I  again, 
with  all  the  power  at  my  command,  deny  that  I 
am  your  husband,  that  I  am  the  Earl  of  Ashton 
and  Cowingford  —  will  you  believe?  " 

"  No,  John,  I  will  not  believe.  It  is  not  a 
matter  of  belief  with  me,  it  is  knowledge.  I 
know  who  you  are."  She  spoke  calmly. 

"  Do  you  believe  that  I  am  in  my  right  mind?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  how  do  you  make  what  you  regard 
as  a  fact  concerning  my  identity  consistent  with 
my  denial,  unless  I  am  insane?  " 

"  I  believe  that  you  are  as  sane  as  I  am.  Your 
denial  of  the  fact  is  the  result  of  forgetfulness 
induced  by  some  illness  or  accident.  The  things 
that  you  believe  that  you  remember  are  fruits 
of  the  imagination,  resultant  from  the  same  con- 
dition or  conditions.  That  is  how  they  are  con- 
sistent. And  is  there  not  proof  positive  in  the 
cablegram  I  received  from  Nellie,  supported  by 
the  letter  she  wrote  later?  The  man  whom  you 
supposed  you  had  killed  is  alive  and  well.  He 
does  not  know  and  never  did  know  a  person  by 
the  name  you  claimed  as  your  own." 


212    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Is  there  nothing,  Mercy,  that  I  can  say,  that 
will  convince  you  of  the  error  into  which  you  have 
fallen?  " 

"  There  is  no  error,  and  therefore  there  can 
be  nothing  sufficiently  powerful  to  convince  me 
that  one  exists.  Robert  recognized  you.  I 
recognized  you.  Your  club  friends  recognized 
you.  The  world  has  recognized  you." 

"  When  Richard  Hertford  returns,  if  I  desire 
to  do  so,  will  you  go  with  me  into  his  presence 
and  hear  me  while  I  assure  him  that  he  is  the 
rightful  heir  to  the  title  and  estates  of  Ashton 
and  Cowingford?  " 

"  No.  I  cannot  prevent  you  from  commit- 
ting an  act  so  foolish,  if  you  are  determined 
to  do  so,  but  I  can  and  will  refuse  to  be  a 
party  to  it.  John,  dear  John,  why  will  you  be 
so  —  " 

"  Hush,  Mercy!  Be  calm.  Remember  that  I 
have  told  you  that  I  will  abide  by  your  decision. 
You  have  decided.  I  will  not  falter.  But  there 
are  conditions  upon  which  I  must  insist.  Who 
pronounced  the  words  that  made  you  the  wife 
of  Lord  John  Hertford?  " 

"  Sir  Malcolm  Douglass,  the  dean  of  the  Church 
of  the  Annunciation." 

"  Do  you  know  him  personally?  I  inquire  as 
a  stranger,  Mercy,  not  to  give  you  pain." 


THE  QUALITY  OF  A  SIN        213 

"  I  believe  you,  John.  Yes;  he  is  a  dear  friend 
to  us  both." 

"  Will  you  send  for  him  to  come  here,  and  will 
you  permit  me  an  hour  alone  with  him,  so  that  I 
can  tell  him  the  truth  as  I  see  it?  And  after  that, 
if  his  religious  scruples  will  permit  him  to  act, 
will  you  let  him  marry  us  —  as  you  would  say, 
again,  but  as  I  say,  will  you  let  him  utter  the 
words  that  will  make  you  my  wife?  " 

"  John!  John!  "  she  cried.  "  What  is  it  you 
would  force  me  to  do?  Go  again  to  the  altar 
with  a  man  who  is  already  my  husband?  " 

"  No,  no,  Mercy.  Stand  here  in  this  room,  if 
you  will,  with  only  those  present  whom  you  shall 
yourself  select;  Robert,  perhaps,  and  one  or 
two  others.  The  dean  will  arrange  for  the  license 
if  he  will  consent  to  perform  the  ceremony  — 
and  he  will  keep  the  secret.  It  is  the  only  way, 
Mercy.  It  must  be  that,  or  —  nothing." 

"  Suicide?  "   she  whispered. 

"  No,  that  is  unnecessary  now,  since  you  over- 
heard me;  but  it  is  that,  or  I  must  go  away 
for  ever." 

"  You  will  not  leave  me  again,  John!  Promise 
me  that  you  will  not." 

"  If  the  dean  bids  me  remain,  I  will  obey  him, 
and  may  God  bless  you  and  have  mercy  upon 
me." 


214    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  So  be  it,  John.  I  will  send  for  the  dean.  Are 
you  strong  enough  to  see  him  now?  Shall  I 
send  for  him  at  once?  " 

"  Yes;  at  once,  Mercy,  at  once." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE    HAND   OF   GOD 

IT  was  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  when  the 
dean,  in  response  to  the  message  sent  to  him  by 
the  countess,  made  his  appearance  at  the  house, 
and  after  half  an  hour  passed  in  the  library  with 
Lady  Mercy  took  his  way  to  the  room  where 
John  Ashton  was  awaiting  him. 

He  was  the  personification  of  the  ideal  church- 
man, in  face,  in  figure,  in  voice,  and  in  demeanour. 
An  enormously  large  man  he  was,  but  so  well 
proportioned  that  his  size  did  not  impress  you 
until  you  stood  beside  him ;  and  there  was  benevo- 
lence and  goodness  in  every  line  of  his  face. 

There  were  dimples  of  humour  near  the  corners 
of  his  mouth  which  did  much  to  belie  the  rigid 
firmness  of  his  lips,  and  he  seemed  to  exude  from 
his  person,  calmness,  gentleness,  firmness,  and 
strength. 

He  entered  the  room  alone,  Ashton  having 
insisted  that  there  should  be  no  accompanying 
introduction  or  announcement;  and  he  came 

215 


216     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

forward  with  extended  hand  and  hearty,  resonant 
voice. 

"Jack,  my  boy,"  he  said  cordially,  "  I  should 
have  been  in  to  see  you  long  ago,  but  I  have 
just  returned  from  the  Continent.  How  are  you? 
Almost  well,  eh?  " 

"  Recovering  rapidly,  sir,"  replied  Ashton. 
"  Will  you  be  seated?  " 

"Thank  you;  yes.  It  does  me  good  to  see 
you.  The  account  that  I  read  of  your  accident 
did  not  give  much  hope  of  your  recovery,  and 
now  I  find  you  almost  as  good  as  new.  I  am 
delighted." 

"  Did  you  see  the  countess?  "  asked  Ashton, 
coming  abruptly  to  the  object  of  the  call. 

"  Oh,  yes  "  —  cheerily  —  "we  chatted  together 
a  few  moments  before  I  came  up  here.  She 
is  not  looking  well,  Jack.  You  must  make 
haste  and  get  about  again,  or  you  will  have  to 
change  places  with  her,  you  the  nurse  and  she 
the  invalid." 

"  Did  she  tell  you  that  I  especially  desired 
your  presence  here?  " 

11  Why,  certainly.  She  said  that  in  the  note 
she  sent  me." 

"  Did  she  tell  you  why?  " 

"  Partly  —  partly,  Jack.  I  don't  like  con- 
fidences second  hand,  though.  You  had  better 


THE   HAND  OF  GOD  217 

tell  me  yourself.  I  believe  she  intimated  there 
is  something  wrong  with  your  memory,  and  that 
you  wish  to  discuss  the  matter  with  me." 

The  shrewd  old  churchman  did  not  deem  it 
necessary  to  tell  Ashton  that  the  countess  had 
delivered  the  note  to  him  in  person,  and  that  she 
had  remained  closeted  with  him  in  his  study 
nearly  an  hour,  during  which  she  had  related  the 
whole,  sad  story  of  the  past  year;  and  that  he 
had  listened,  at  first  in  utter  astonishment,  then 
in  dismay,  and  at  last  with  entire  conviction 
that  her  view  of  the  case  was  the  correct  one. 

He  had  known  and  loved  them  both  from 
their  infancy,  and  his  sympathy  was  with  her 
from  the  start.  Still,  he  had  gone  to  his  interview 
with  the  earl  with  many  misgivings  at  his  heart, 
every  one  of  which  was  scattered  and  forgotten 
the  moment  he  entered  the  presence  of  John 
Ashton. 

"  Do  you  believe  that  I  am  Lord  John  Hert- 
ford? "  was  the  next  question,  and  it  was  uttered 
in  a  tone  that  almost  amounted  to  aggressiveness, 
for  Ashton  realized  that  he  was  playing  his  last 
card  in  the  game  of  destiny  that  had  been  so 
strangely  forced  upon  him. 

The  old  dean  did  not  at  once  reply.  The 
astonishment  depicted  upon  his  face  was  not 
assumed;  it  was  real,  for  the  suddenness  of  the 


218    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

question  took  him  off  his  guard;  but  only  for 
an  instant. 

Still,  the  time  was  sufficiently  long  to  convince 
John  Ashton  that  the  countess  had  not  antici- 
pated him  by  pleading  her  own  cause  first.  In 
this,  as  we  know,  he  deceived  himself,  for  decep- 
tion in  any  form  could  comprise  no  part  of  the 
character  of  the  venerable  dean. 

"Certainly  —  certainly,  Jack,"  he  replied 
quickly.  "  What  else  am  I  to  believe?  " 

"  Anything  else,  except  that,  sir." 

"  You  will  have  to  explain,  my  boy.  I  do  not 
understand  you,"  said  the  dean,  calmly. 

"  I  am  not  the  man  for  whom  you  mistake 
me;  that  is  all." 

The  words  were  uttered  quietly,  but  firmly. 
There  was  no  faltering  in  the  tones  that  John 
Ashton  employed.  There  was  no  excitement; 
but  there  was  determination  and  emphasis  un- 
mistakable, and  the  dean  did  not  immediately 
respond. 

"  The  whole  world  seems  to  insist  upon  investing 
me  with  the  title  and  estates  of  a  man  of  whom 
I  never  heard  until  old  Robert  met  me  on  the 
street,"  Ashton  continued  in  the  same  quiet 
tone,  keeping  his  eyes  unflinchingly  upon  the  face 
of  the  churchman.  "  I  foolishly  consented  to 
come  here  with  him  — here  to  this  house,  not 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  219 

knowing  at  the  time  that  the  countess  was  a 
self-incarcerated  prisoner  here;  and  from  that 
moment  a  chain  of  circumstances,  so  marvellous 
and  inexplicable  that  when  I  consider  them  I 
am  utterly  overwhelmed,  has  militated  against 
my  denial,  and  has  seemed  to  force  me,  against 
my  will,  into  the  possession  of  the  name,  the 
estates,  the  title,  and  even  the  wife  of  another 
man.  And  now,  I  perceive  that  even  you  are 
a  victim  of  the  same  self-deception.  It  is  for  the 
purpose  of  telling  you  this  strange  story  that  I 
have  insisted  upon  your  presence  here.  It  is 
to  advise  with  you  concerning  the  dilemma  that 
engulfs  me,  to  discuss  this  matter  fully  as  a  man, 
as  a  friend  to  the  earl  and  to  the  countess,  and  as 
a  minister  of  God.  You  married  them  that 
morning  more  than  a  year  ago;  you  have  known 
each  of  them  from  their  childhood;  you  have  the 
power  of  God  behind  you  in  the  work  that  you 
do,  in  the  advice  that  you  give,  and  in  every  act 
of  your  life.  I  beseech  you  now  to  ask  that  God 
whom  we  both  worship,  but  who  is  nearer  to 
you  than  to  me,  to  imbue  you  with  additional 
clearness  of  perception,  so  that  He  may  direct 
you  to  lead  me  in  the  right  way,  for  as  you  lead, 
I  shall  follow.  I  —  " 

The  old  dean  raised  one  hand  to  enjoin  silence. 

Then,  calmly,  he  rose  from   his  chair,  raised 


220    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

his  grand  old  head  until  his  eyes  seemed  to  gaze 
through  and  beyond  the  ceiling  of  the  room  into 
the  realms  beyond,  and  after  standing  thus  for 
a  moment,  silent,  preoccupied,  he  said  distinctly, 
clearly  and  in  a  deep  voice  which  penetrated  to 
the  uttermost  parts  of  the  room : 

"  Let  us  pray." 

Then  he  sank  upon  his  knees  beside  the  chair, 
clasped  his  hands  together,  bowed  his  head,  and 
while  John  Ashton,  awed  by  the  simple  sublimity 
of  the  act,  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  waited, 
the  churchman  began,  in  low,  even  tones,  a 
supplication  so  earnest,  so  powerful,  so  reveren- 
tial, that  word  by  word  it  sank  into  and  engraved 
itself  upon  the  memory  of  the  man  who  listened, 
and  remained  with  him  as  long  as  life  dwelt 
with'in  his  body. 

He  prayed  as  John  Ashton  had  requested  him 
to  pray,  that  he,  as  a  minister  of  God,  might  be 
directed  in  the  right  way  —  that  he  might  be 
given  the  power  to  see  things  clearly,  as  they 
should  be  seen  —  that  the  mortal  in  whose 
interests  he  invoked  the  intervention  of  the 
Almighty  might  be  governed  and  directed  aright 
—  that  his  memory  might  return  to  him  so  that 
he  would  see  things  clearly,  and  as  they  were  — 
that  the  awful  responsibility  that  rested  upon 
him,  the  minister,  as  the  adviser  of  this  man  and 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  221 

this  woman,  might  become  a  lasting  blessing  to 
each  of  them,  and  that  forgiveness  for  all  might 
be  vouchsafed  to  them,  should  there  be  any  error 
in  their  duty  to  God  and  towards  man. 

When,  at  last,  the  sound  of  his  voice  ceased, 
he  rose  from  his  knees,  and  reaching  out  his  right 
hand,  rested  it  for  a  moment  upon  the  brow  of 
his  companion,  while  he  said  solemnly: 

"  John,  the  immutable  power  of  God,  the 
Almighty,  is  with  us  now.  It  has  descended 
upon  me  and  upon  you,  through  me.  Wisdom 
has  not  been  given  to  me,  but  I  shall  bow  to  the 
inscrutable  wisdom  of  our  Father  in  heaven, 
knowing  that  I  am  right,  in  the  advice  that  I 
shall  give  to  you  in  this  hour  of  your  greatest 
need.  I  came  here  with  a  heavy  heart,  doubting 
my  own  power,  and  filled  with  misgivings  regard- 
ing my  right  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  this 
moment.  Those  doubts  and  those  misgivings  are 
gone.  I  feel  within  me  something  that  is  new, 
and  strange  —  and  real.  God  knoweth  all  things. 
Where  our  understanding  falters,  His  continues. 
He  doeth  all  things;  He  also  doeth  all  things 
well.  If  He  doeth  all  things,  hath  He  not  then 
imposed  upon  you  these  conditions  from  which 
you  say  you  cannot  escape?  " 

The  dean  ceased  speaking,  but  after  a  pause 
that  was  almost  imperceptible,  he  continued: 


222     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  There  is,  in  all  things  that  happen  upon  the 
earth,  the  hand  of  God.  That  hand  is  upon  you 
now.  If  it  rests  heavily,  and  you  stagger  and 
falter  beneath  its  weight,  it  is  to  make  you 
stronger,  better,  greater,  nobler.  You  and  I  and 
everybody  are  but  instruments  in  His  hands  for 
the  better  modelling  of  some  inscrutable  design. 
Battle  as  you  may,  there  is  no  escape  from 
that  guiding,  directing  hand.  Whatever  doubts 
remain  in  your  heart,  they  will  be  quelled  and 
stilled.  Now,  my  son,  if  it  is  still  your  wish,  I 
will  listen  to  what  you  have  to  say." 

Calmly,  and  with  that  same  sublime  dignity, 
the  dean  resumed  his  chair,  and  his  eyes  became 
kinder,  gentler,  as  they  rested  upon  the  face  of 
John  Ashton  and  waited  for  him  to  speak. 

Then,  in  that  moment,  John  Ashton  hesitated. 

"  Why  should  I  repeat  the  story  everybody 
refuses  to  believe?  Why  should  I  utter  the  name 
of  Henry  Hollister,  in  proof  of  my  identity,  when 
Henry  Hollister  has  already  declined  to  furnish 
that  proof?  "  he  asked  himself.  "  Is  it  not  fruit- 
less to  argue  further?  Hope  Hollister  might 
indeed  furnish  the  proof,  but  have  I  the  right  to 
demand  it  of  her?  That  past  of  mine,  so  far  as  it 
concerned  her,  is  buried ;  shall  I  dare  to  resurrect 
it  ?  Might  she  not  also  deny  my  identity,  repudiate 
the  tale  that  I  would  tell?  And  where  am  I  to 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  223 

turn  if  not  to  her?  No,  let  the  dead  past  bury 
its  dead;  let  the  living  present  partake  of  new 
life.  If  God  doeth  all  things,  and  doeth  all  things 
well,  as  this  good  man  says,  I  am,  as  he  also 
says,  but  an  instrument  in  His  hands." 

He  raised  his  eyes  again  then,  and  said  slowly: 

"  I  will  be  guided  by  you.  I  can  only  repeat 
what  I  have  already  related  to  Mercy.  The 
only  man  who  can  prove  my  identity  denies  that 
he  ever  knew  me.  Is  it  best  that  I  should  tell 
the  story,  or  that  I  should  try  to  forget  it?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  best,  John,  that  it  be  forgotten. 
I  will  confide  to  you  that  Mercy  has  told  me  all. 
I  already  know  the  story  that  you  would  tell. 
Do  not  repeat  it.  Let  it  be  forgotten." 

"So  be  it,  sir,"  murmured  Ashton,  solemnly. 
"  Henceforth,  I  am  Lord  John  Hertford,  the 
Earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford,  and  may  God 
have  mercy  upon  us  all." 

"  Amen!  amen!  "  the  dean  responded,  reveren- 
tially. 

"  Did  Mercy  tell  you  that  I  insist  upon  a 
wedding  ceremony?  "  asked  Ashton,  presently. 

"  Yes;  and  I  approve." 

"  You  will  perform  it?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  for  her  sake,  without  publicity?  " 

"Yes." 


224    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  When  shall  it  be  done?  " 

"  At  once.  Before  noon  to-morrow.  I  will 
arrange  everything  for  you.  It  is  her  request. 
I  will  come  here  at  half -past  ten  with  all  prepara- 
tions made.  And  now,  John,  do  you  not  feel 
happier?  Is  there  not  a  new  peace  in  your  heart?  " 

"I  do  not  know.  I  cannot  tell,"  Ashton 
replied,  slowly.  "  There  is  one  request  that  I 
would  like  to  make  —  one  supplication  to  you  as 
a  man." 

"  What  is  it,  my  son?  " 

"  That  you  will  be  my  friend,  always,  sir." 

"  I  can  promise  you  that,  freely." 

"ATou  will  remember  this  hour?  " 

"  As  long  as  God  gives  me  life,  I  will  not  forget 
it,"  replied  the  dean,  solemnly. 

"  Thank  you.  I  will  not  detain  you  longer  now. 
As  you  go  out,  will  you  see  Mercy  and  tell  her?  " 

"  Yes." 

Then  John  Ashton  was  left  alone  with  his 
thoughts,  but  what  they  were  has  never  been 
revealed. 

There  was  no  turning  back  now.  It  was  too 
late  for  that.  The  deed  was  done.  Henceforth 
he  must  live  and  act  a  lie.  John  Ashton  must  be 
buried  from  that  hour.  John  Hertford  must  be 
resurrected  and  live. 

The  new  earl  smiled  bitterly.     There  was  no 


THE  HAND  OF  GOD  225 

joy  for  him  in  this  deception.  He  could  not 
repudiate  the  responsibility  for  the  fraud  he  had 
decided  to  perpetrate.  It  rested  upon  him  and 
upon  him  alone.  He  could  not  cast  it  off  upon 
the  shoulders  of  the  good  man  who  had  advised 
with  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   NEW   LIFE 

"  I  PRONOUNCE  you  man  and  wife." 

The  words  were  uttered  solemnly,  distinctly, 
impressively,  nor  was  the  blessing  which  followed 
the  announcement  less  inspiring. 

Dean  Douglass  ceased  speaking,  and  a  happy 
smile  lighted  up  his  face  as  he  stepped  forward 
and  shook  the  groom  warmly  by  the  hand,  at  the 
same  time  imprinting  a  fatherly  kiss  upon  the 
brow  of  Lady  Mercy. 

From  that  moment,  Lord  John's  health 
steadily  improved.  He  became  stronger  with  such 
rapidity  that  within  a  week  after  the  ceremony 
he  deemed  himself  quite  well. 

By  common  consent,  neither  he  nor  the  countess 
referred  to  the  subject  that  had  so  distressed  them 
both,  but  which  had  affected  them  so  differently. 
He  became,  without  effort,  and  in  every  outward 
sense,  the  man  whom  everybody  believed  him  to 
be;  and  she  continued  the  loving,  beautiful, 
trusting  woman  that  she  had  always  been. 


THE  NEW  LIFE  227 

He  went  about  among  the  friends  of  the  lost 
earl  with  entire  composure  and  with  perfect 
naturalness.  At  first,  she  endeavoured  to  be 
always  with  him,  lest  he  should  offend  an  old 
acquaintance  by  non-recognition,  striving  always 
to  keep  secret  from  the  world  the  existence  of 
that  strange  forgetfulness  from  which  she  believed 
he  suffered.  She  coached  him  constantly,  and  he 
listened  to  and  obeyed  her  in  everything. 

One  day  she  showed  him  a  photograph  of  a 
beautiful  woman,  about  her  own  age. 

"  Do  you  know  who  it  is,  John?  "  she  asked, 
after  she  deemed  that  he  had  studied  it  sufficiently 
long. 

"  No,  dear,"  he  replied,  "  I  do  not." 

"  I  hoped  —  no,  I  believed  that  you  would 
remember  Agnes  Dunmore,"  she  said,  and  there 
was  a  ring  of  pain  in  her  voice. 

"  Forgive  me,  Mercy,"  he  replied,  sadly,  "  I 
remember  nobody.  Would  to  God  I  could  re- 
member everything  you  wish.  Tell  me,  dear,  who 
is  Agnes  Dunmore?  " 

"  She  is  a  distant  relative  of  yours;  a  far 
removed  cousin,  and  at  one  time,  long,  very  long 
ago,  when  you  were  children,  you  engaged  your- 
selves to  each  other.  She  was  Agnes  Chisholm 
then.  She  married  Lord  Dunmore,  who  used  to 
be  Robert  Crandyl.  He  died  within  the  year. 


228    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

Their  place  is  Oakdale  and  it  adjoins  your  seat 
in  Hertford.  They  are  coming  here  to-night. 
Her  mother,  Lady  Babbington  Chisholm,  will  be 
with  her.  I  believe  you  have  called  her  Aunty 
Bab  since  you  were  a  boy,  and  do  still.  You 
will  not  forget?  " 

"  No,  Mercy,  I  will  not  forget." 

Methods  of  this  kind  were  her  constant  resource, 
and  under  her  tutelage,  the  occasions  were  rare 
when  he  gave  offence. 

Among  the  men  at  the  clubs  and  about  town, 
Archie  Quinlan  was  his  constant  companion, 
and  for  the  genial,  hearty  young  peer,  the  new 
earl  conceived  an  honest  and  sincere  affection. 

The  countess,  who  knew  the  true  worth  of  her 
husband's  friend,  took  him  into  her  confidence 
one  day,  and  told  him  much  concerning  the 
malady  from  which  the  earl  suffered,  but  with- 
out going  to  the  extent  of  explaining  that 
it  had  included  her,  and  also  him.  And  after 
their  talk  Archie  went  straight  to  his  friend  and 
exclaimed : 

"  Look  here,  Jack,  why  in  the  world  haven't 
you  told  me  about  this  thing  before?  " 

"  What  thing,  Archie?  "  inquired  the  earl, 
raising  his  brows. 

"  Why,  that  you  have  somehow  forgotten  such  a 
lot  of  things.  Mercy  has  just  told  me  about  it. 


THE  NEW  LIFE  229 

By  Jove,  old  chap,  but  I'd  consider  myself  lucky 
if  I  could  forget  a  lot  of  things  that  I  don't  care 
to  remember.  Do  you  know  what  I  am  going  to 
do  now?  " 

"  No  "  —  smilingly  —  "  I  haven't  the  least 
idea." 

"I'm  going  to  constitute  myself  mentor  and 
post  you.  I'll  just  give  you  the  pedigree  of 
everybody  we  see  approaching  us  —  that  is, 
everybody  whom  you  ought  to  know.  Look! 
There  comes  Bux.  Bux,  for  short,  you  know. 
Ahem!  Sir  Thomas  Buxton,  baronet.  Son  of 
Sir  Thomas  Buxton  deceased;  grandson  and 
great  grandson  several  times  over,  of  ditto;  very 
proud  of  the  ditto ;  about  the  only  thing  he  is 
proud  of,  too,  unless  it  is  his  pack  of  hounds  and 
his  roan  hunter,  Crank,  which  he  believes  can 
jump  over  the  moon  —  and,  egad,  I  believed  it, 
too,  the  only  time  I  ever  tried  to  ride  him.  Don't 
on  any  account  forget  to  inquire  after  Crank. 
You've  ridden  him  to  hounds  often." 

"  Who  is  that  with  him?  " 

"Geoff  Crandyl  —  another  intimate;  too  lazy 
to  breathe;  third  son  of  old  Lord  Dunmore  by 
second  wife;  half  brother-in-law  to  Agnes;  one 
of  the  best  fellows  you  ever  knew,  but  so  infer- 
nally lazy  that  he  makes  everybody  tired  — 
really.  Funny  that  you  forget  him.  I  say,  old 


230     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

chap,  was  I,  also,  among  the  individuals  of  the 
forgotten  past?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  you  were,  Archie." 

"  Devilish  unkind,  I  call  that.  However,  you 
remember  me  now,  don't  you? ' 

"  Perfectly." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  that  will  have  to  do.  Now, 
tell  me,  when  are  you  going  down  to  the  Hall?  " 

"  Just  as  soon  as  it  is  consistent  to  do  so." 

"  Shall  you  ask  the  same  people  that  you 
always  have?  " 

"  That  depends.  I  think,  since  you  know 
something  of  my  condition  of  mind,  I  will  suggest 
that  you  consult  with  Mercy  and  make  out  the 
list  between  you.  Then  you  can  go  over  it  with 
me  and  prepare  me  for  the  ordeal;  eh?  Will 
you  do  it?  " 

It  was  two  months,  however,  before  they  were 
ready  to  go  into  the  country,  for  there  were 
social  obligations  to  be  fulfilled  in  town  before 
departure  could  be  thought  of.  At  last,  however, 
the  time  came,  the  London  house  was  closed,  and 
the  earl,  with  his  countess,  their  servants,  and 
baggage,  repaired  to  Hertford  Hall,  to  be  followed 
shortly  by  a  selected  few  who  had  been  chosen  as 
their  guests. 

As  the  days  and  weeks  and  months  came  and 
went,  the  name  of  John  Ashton  faded  into  a 


THE  NEW  LIFE  231 

memory  only.  The  new  earl  became  more  and 
more  accustomed  to  his  surroundings,  his  friends, 
and  the  numerous  cares  that  devolved  upon  him 
by  reason  of  the  position  he  occupied. 

His  natural  buoyancy  of  spirits  returned  to  him 
in  a  large  measure,  although  there  were  hours 
when  he  stole  away  by  himself,  lest  the  agony  and 
doubt  and  dread  that  pursued  him  should  be 
revealed  to  Lady  Mercy.  And  he  could  not  bear 
the  thought  of  that. 

But  withal  he  was  happy,  and  in  outward 
seeming,  much  like  the  light  hearted,  fun  loving, 
careless,  genial  John  Ashton  who  had  lived  such 
a  contented  life  in  New  York.  And  strangely 
enough,  also  much  like  the  Lord  John  that  these 
new  friends  had  known  and  loved  in  the  past. 

There  was  one  source  of  happiness  in  his  life 
which  consigned  regret  and  remorse  to  utter 
oblivion,  except  at  such  moments  when  it  would 
steal  upon  him  unawares  and  carry  him  backward 
upon  the  wings  of  memory.  It  was  his  love  for 
Lady  Mercy.  His  eyes  followed  her  whenever  she 
was  where  they  could  rest  upon  her.  When  she 
was  absent,  he  constantly  listened  for  the  sound 
of  her  approaching  step.  When  she  was  beside 
him,  he  was  blissfully  happy. 

Supreme  content  dwelt  with  them  in  the 
paradise  they  had  created.  They  understood 


232    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

each  other  without  expressing  their  thoughts 
aloud.  They  each  knew  in  advance,  what  the 
other  was  about  to  say.  They  dwelt  together  in 
perfect  unity. 

Often  the  new  earl  recalled  the  impressive  words 
uttered  by  the  dean  that  day  when  he  had  called 
him  to  his  side  to  tell  him  the  story  of  his  life,  and 
bit  by  bit  he  began  to  believe  that  his  present 
surroundings  was  the  working  out  of  an  immutable 
law  in  which  he  himself  was  only  a  passive 
instrument. 

Regarding  Richard  Hertford,  of  whom  he  often 
thought  as  the  man  who  by  right  should  possess 
the  title  and  estates  which  he  enjoyed,  there  came 
no  news;  and  at  such  times  he  resolved  again 
that  when  he  appeared  he  would  tell  him  every- 
thing. 

The  season  in  the  country  came  to  a  close,  and 
they  returned  to  London;  and  now  John  Ashton 
was  so  intrenched  in  his  position  as  the  earl,  that 
its  duties  and  obligations,  its  customs  and  require- 
ments, became  a  matter  of  course,  so  that  gradually 
he  forgot  that  he  was  not  what  he  seemed,  and 
the  intervals  of  retrospection  became  fewer, 
farther  apart  and  less  poignant. 

True,  now  and  then,  he  thought  of  John  Ashton 
vaguely,  as  of  one  who  was  dead,  but  who  seemed 
never  to  have  possessed  part  or  place  with  him. 


THE  NEW  LIFE  233 

He  remembered  Hope  as  one  who  had  been  loved 
and  lost  by  that  other  being.  He  lived  a  different 
existence  —  a  different  life  —  he  was  another 
being,  in  body,  in  soul,  in  thought,  in  deed. 

He  knew  that  he  was  the  centre  of  all  things 
to  two  beings  —  his  wife,  who  loved  him  with  all 
the  wealth  of  her  great  and  passionate  heart; 
to  Robert,  who  worshipped  him  as  one  who  is 
far  above  other  men. 

Dear  old  Robert!  The  same  respectful,  watch- 
ful, careful,  considerate  soul,  with  his  fealty  and 
his  steadfastness  shining  in  his  eyes,  who  had 
grown  younger  and  spryer  since  the  return  of  his 
master,  who  anticipated  every  want,  foresaw 
every  desire,  who  worshipped  the  earl  and 
adored  the  countess  with  an  intensity  indescrib- 
able. 

In  the  old  man's  room,  his  Bible  remained 
spread  open  every  day  at  the  same  page,  and  every 
night,  ere  his  white  hairs  touched  the  pillow,  he 
read  again  the  same  chapter  that  had  given  him 
comfort  that  night  of  the  earl's  return. 

While  time  drifted  on,  that  incident,  too,  became 
a  memory  which  dwelt  only  in  the  hearts  of  those 
who  were  concerned  in  it,  but  which  never  found 
utterance  upon  their  lips;  and  when,  on  the 
anniversary  of  the  day  of  that  secret  marriage 
performed  by  the  dean,  Lady  Mercy  gave  birth 


234    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

to  a  son,  it  was  put  aside  for  ever,  except  in 
prayers  of  thanksgiving  and  praise. 

Still,  Richard  Hertford  did  not  appear.  Still, 
no  word  came  from  him  to  tell  that  he  lived  or 
had  died.  Even  his  bankers  knew  nothing  con- 
cerning him,  and  it  seemed  to  the  new  earl,  who 
often  pondered  over  his  long  absence,  that  the 
strange  destiny  that  pursued  him  had  also  thrust 
aside  the  real  heir,  in  order  to  confirm  him  more 
invulnerably  in  the  place  that  he  had  usurped. 

So,  looking  into  the  clear,  calm  eyes  of  his  wife, 
and  feeling  the  touch  of  her  soft  arms  around  him, 
he  became,  bit  by  bit,  the  victim  of  her  great 
love  —  a  happy  man. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

FEELING   HIS   WAY 

THE  steamship  Indian  Empress  arrived  at 
Liverpool  on  the  fifth  day  of  September,  nearly 
six  years  after  the  remarkable  meeting  between 
John  Ashton  and  old  Robert  at  the  corner  of 
St.  James  Street  and  Piccadilly. 

Among  the  passengers  who  immediately  sought 
the  railway  station  and  took  the  fast  express  for 
London  was  a  tall,  bearded,  powerfully  built 
man,  whose  skin  was  tanned  almost  to  the  colour 
of  a  Hindu,  and  whose  clear,  piercing  gray  eyes 
seemed  at  a  glance  to  comprehend  everything 
they  rested  upon.  And  while  he  stood  upon  the 
station  platform,  waiting  for  the  guard  to  assign 
him  to  a  compartment  he  could  occupy  in  solitary 
possession  during  the  run  to  London,  a  close 
observer  would  have  noticed  that  he  took  an 
almost  eager  interest  in  everything  he  saw,  as  if 
his  eyes  had  for  a  long  time  been  strangers  to  the 
scenes  about  him. 

His  baggage  —  and  there  was  not  much  of  it  — 
235 


236     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

bore  the  initials  "  R.  H.  H."  Under  his  left  arm 
he  carried  a  bundle  of  papers,  just  purchased, 
which  he  was  reserving  for  diligent  perusal  in  the 
quiet  of  his  compartment. 

"  Seven  years  and  two  months  to  a  day  since 
I  left  England,"  he  said  aloud  as  the  guard 
closed  and  locked  the  door  after  him. 

Then  he  threw  aside  his  coat,  for  the  day  was 
warm,  filled  and  lighted  a  pipe  that  showed  signs 
of  much  service,  arranged  himself  comfortably 
among  the  cushions  of  his  compartment,  and 
commenced  his  inspection  of  the  papers. 

There  were  the  Times,  the  Telegraph,  the  Pall 
Mall  Gazette,  the  Court  Journal,  and,  in  fact, 
every  London  paper  that  could  be  procured  at 
the  stall,  and  what  was  strange  concerning  his 
inspection  of  them  was,  that  instead  of  delving 
first  for  the  general  news,  he  turned  at  once  to 
the  society  columns,  scanning  each  item  with 
the  same  close  attention  that  the  shears  editor 
of  an  afternoon  daily  might  have  employed. 

There  was  no  evidence  of  enjoyment  about  him 
in  the  occupation,  such  as  might  have  been 
expected  in  one  who  had  been  so  long  absent 
from  his  native  land;  instead,  the  expression 
of  his  face  was  stern  and  cold ;  and  when,  at  last, 
his  glance  rested  upon  the  following  paragraph, 
fierceness  glittered  in  his  eyes,  and  his  strong 


FEELING  HIS  WAY  237 

hands    involuntarily    clutched   the   paper    more 
tightly. 

"  Lord  John  Hertford,  Earl  of  Ashton  and 
Cowingford,  accompanied  by  the  countess,  their 
two  children,  and  suite,  have  returned  from 
Switzerland.  They  will  depart  immediately  for 
Hertford  Hall,  to  be  followed  shortly  by  a  se- 
lected number  of  guests.  Among  those  who  are 
included  in  the  invitations  are,"  etc. 

He  carefully  marked  the  item,  and  later,  when 
he  had  scanned  each  one  of  the  papers  with  the 
same  care,  cut  it  out,  with  others  that  he  had 
discovered  in  the  same  way,  placed  them  in  his 
pocketbook,  and  hurled  the  remnants  of  his 
search  through  the  window. 

Then  he  leaned  back  among  the  cushions, 
closed  his  eyes,  and  appeared  to  be  sleeping, 
but  he  was  wide  awake  when  the  train  rushed  into 
the  station  in  London. 

That  same  hard,  unyielding  expression  was 
upon  his  face,  when  later  he  entered  his  favourite 
club  on  Northumberland  Avenue,  and  ordered 
such  refreshments  as  he  needed. 

The  hour  was  still  early,  for  the  lights  were  not 
yet  in  use,  and  while  he  waited  he  dashed  off  a 
note,  called  a  messenger,  and  despatched  it  with 
instructions  to  observe  the  utmost  haste,  and  to 
pursue  the  person  to  whom  it  was  addressed 


238    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

until  found,  if  it  took  the  bearer  of  the  message 
all  over  the  United  Kingdom. 

Richard  Hertford  was  not  one  who  uttered 
his  thoughts  aloud  at  any  time,  and  just  now  he 
possessed  an  especial  reason  for  thinking  silently, 
but  because  afterwards  his  emotions  at  that 
time  were  revealed  to  a  selected  few,  we  are 
permitted  to  read  them. 

"  Poor  old  Jack,"  he  mused,  "  for  your  sake  I 
must  be  careful  in  what  I  do.  I  must  familiarize 
myself  with  everything  that  has  occurred  here 
during  the  seven  years  of  my  absence,  before  I 
act,  or  even  speak;  and  when  the  blow  falls, 
it  must  descend  with  crushing  force  —  with 
irresistible  power.  Is  it  some  hideous  con- 
spiracy, I  wonder,  and  can  Mercy  Covington  have 
had  a  hand  in  it!  God!  How  many,  many  times 
I  have  asked  myself  that  question  since  I  escaped 
from  that  hell  in  Borneo  and  got  back  to  partial 
civilization  in  India,  only  to  learn  of  this  new 
horror. 

"Mercy  —  Mercy!  Can  the  being  whom  I 
loved  as  a  child  and  worshipped  as  a  woman  — 
can  you,  the  only  love  of  my  life,  whom  silently 
I  resigned  to  Jack  for  his  happiness  and  yours  — 
can  you,  who  unknowingly  exiled  me  from 
England  and  home  —  can  you  have  sunk  so  low 
as  this? " 


FEELING  HIS  WAY  239 

It  was  remarkable  that  while  he  was  the  victim 
of  such  agonizing  emotions,  not  a  trace  of  their 
existence  appeared  upon  his  countenance.  Out- 
wardly, his  face  was  as  calm  as  ever,  but  it  was 
the  calmness  of  long  study  and  continued  effort. 
He  possessed  the  stoicism  of  a  Mayo  Indian, 
whose  expression  never  changes,  in  joy  or  in 
sorrow,  in  peace  or  in  the  grasp  of  the  most 
excruciating  pain. 

"  Poor  old  Jack!  "  he  thought  again.  "  You 
died  in  my  arms;  I  buried  you;  I  covered  your 
face  from  earthly  view  for  the  last  time,  with  these 
hands,  and  over  your  far  away  grave  I  uttered 
the  only  prayer  that  has  passed  my  lips  since  I 
was  a  child.  I  knew  you,  Jack;  I  knew  you 
beyond  a  doubt.  You  are  dead,  buried.  How, 
then,  can  another  have  taken  your  place  here? 
My  God,  how  can  it  be?  " 

He  remained  there,  buried  in  thought,  and 
rarely  raising  his  head,  more  than  an  hour.  He 
was  practically  alone  in  the  club,  for  it  was  at  a 
time  of  day  when  the  frequenters  were  absent,  and 
thus  far  he  had  not  encountered  an  acquaint- 
ance; and  the  fact  that  he  was  unlikely  to  do 
so  had  been  his  object  in  going  there. 

After  the  passing  of  the  first  hour,  his  eyes 
frequently  sought  the  door,  and  at  last,  when 
another  half  hour  had  elapsed,  his  glance  was 


240     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

rewarded,  for  a  figure  entered  the  room  and  came 
rapidly  toward  him  with  extended  hand  and 
smiling,  wondering  face. 

"  Dick,  old  fellow!  "  cried  the  new-comer,  "  this 
is  the  grandest,  best,  happiest  surprise  I  ever  had 
in  my  life.  Your  note  took  me  clean  off  my  feet. 
Well,  well,  well!  It  is  really  you!  We  thought 
you  were  dead  —  feared  that  you  were,  at  least. 
But  why  in  the  world  did  you  want  me  to  keep 
still  about  your  arrival?  By  Jove,  Dick,  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  again!  " 

All  the  time  he  was  talking,  he  was  shaking 
Richard  Hertford's  hand  as  though  it  were  a 
pump  handle,  and  the  grasp  was  returned  with 
equal  cordiality,  for  there  was  an  old  time  affection 
between  these  two  that  time  nor  distance  could  not 
efface  or  lessen. 

"  Sit  down,  Archie,  and  tell  me  all  the  news," 
said  Hertford,  quietly;  "that  is,  if  you  have  a 
few  moments  to  spare." 

"  A  few  moments  to  spare?  Well,  I  should  say 
I  have.  I'd  break  an  engagement  with  her  Majesty 
the  queen  for  the  sake  of  a  good  chat  with  you. 
But  tell  you  all  the  news  of  seven  or  eight  years  — 
which  is  it?  — in  a  few  minutes?  Well,  that  is 
beyond  me.  Suppose  you  give  me  a  little  news 
yourself.  Where  in  the  world  have  you  been  all 
this  time?  " 


FEELING  HIS  WAY  241 

"  I  have  been  a  slave  to  a  lot  of'  niggers  on  the 
island  of  Borneo  nearly  three  years  of  the  time," 
replied  Hertford,  calmly. 

"  Good  heavens!    A  what?  " 

"  A  prisoner  and  a  slave.  That  is  the  truth, 
Archie.  I  escaped  at  last,  and  here  I  am.  Not 
a  soul  knows  that  I  am  in  London.  I  travelled 
incog,  and  —  " 

"But  why?  You  should  have  wired,  or  done 
something.  We'd  have  gone  wild  with  delight  at 
news  from  you;  but  you  are  here  now,  anyway." 
1  Yes,  I  am  here  now,"  replied  Hertford, 
smiling.  '  You  see,  Archie,  I  know  you  fellows 
up  at  the  Sachem.  If  you  had  known  I  was 
coming,  you'd  have  had  out  a  brass  band  or 
something  equally  monstrous,  and  no  end  of 
claptrap  which  I  do  not  like.  Now,  tell  me,  how 
is  everybody?  Who  among  my  friends  is  dead? 
Whom  shall  I  miss  when  I  appear  among  them 
again?  " 

"  Not  one,  Dick,  I  verily  believe;  that  is, 
nobody  whom  you  care  a  rap  about.  How 
thoroughly  well  you  are  looking.  Slavery  must 
have  agreed  with  you." 

"I've  had  six  months  or  more  in  which  to  pick 
up.  Yes,  I  am  well;  very  well." 

Suddenly,  and  quite  irrelevantly,  Lord  Archie 
Quinlan  uttered  a  shout  of  laughter,  so  that  his 


242    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

companion  stared  at  him  in  undisguised  astonish- 
ment. 

"What  is  it  that  is  so  funny?"  he  asked, 
presently. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  Jack.  How  surprised  he 
will  be." 

Hertford  gave  an  imperceptible  start,  and  then 
said,  quietly: 

"  Yes,  I  imagine  he  will  be  surprised."  Then 
controlling  himself  admirably,  he  added:  "Tell 
me  about  him,  Archie." 

"  There  isn't  much  to  tell  about  him  except 
that  he  is  the  happiest  man  this  side  of  heaven. 
That's  the  truth,  too.  Why,  it  is  six  or  seven 
years  or  thereabouts,  since  he  and  Mercy  Coving- 
ton  were  married,  and  one  would  think  they  were 
an  engaged  couple  yet,  with  the  wedding  day  set 
for  to-morrow." 

"  They  are  happy,  then?  Lord  John  and  Lady 
Mercy?  " 

"  Happy  is  no  name  for  it.  They're  the  shining 
example  for  the  kingdom.  You  never  saw  any- 
thing like  it.  But  you  will  have  a  chance  to 
beheld  for  yourself,  for  we're  all  going  down  to 
the  Hall  next  week,  for  a  month.  By  Jove!  If 
we  can  only  keep  your  presence  in  England  a 
secret  until  then,  and  have  you  walk  in  upon 
them  unannounced,  won't  there  be  a  scene? 


FEELING  HIS  WAY  243 

Shall  we  try  it?     That  is  what  passed  through 
my  mind  when  I  laughed.    Shall  we  try  it?  " 

"  Yes;  it  is  just  what  I  wish  to  do.  Tell  me, 
Archie,  has  the  earl  changed  very  much?  " 

"  Who?  The  earl?  Oh,  you  mean  Jack.  He 
has  grown  a  little  older,  perhaps,  like  all  the  rest 
of  us,  but  he's  just  the  same  old  Jack.  I  suppose 
you  have  heard  about  the  accident?  " 

"  I  haven't  heard  about  anything.  What 
accident?  " 

"  Why,  I  ran  over  him  in  the  street  —  on 
Piccadilly.  Nearly  killed  him.  Smashed  his  head 
and  broke  his  ribs,  and  all  that.  I  was  terribly 
done  up  about  it." 

"  When  was  that?    When  did  it  happen?  " 

"  Let  me  see;  it  was  in  May.  Yes,  that's  the 
time.  Jack  and  Mercy  had  just  returned  from 
their  honeymoon  on  the  Continent.  They  took  a 
whole  year,  but  bless  you,  it  was  only  the  t>e- 
ginning.  They  have  been  keeping  it  up  ever 
since,  and  will,  I  think,  to  the  end  of  their  days. 
Nobody  knew  they  were  back;  they  arrived  only 
the  night  before,  you  know,  and  Jack  was  on 
his  way  to  the  Sachem  to  find  me,  or  Bux,  or 
somebody.  I  bowled  him  over  like  a  ninepin, 
or  rather  my  horses  did.  He  was  carried  into  a 
chemist's,  and  there  I  saw  who  it  was.  We  took 
him  around  to  the  club,  sent  for  old  Robert,  who 


244    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

broke  the  news  to  Mercy,  and  then  we  took  him 
home.  It  was  nearly  four  months  —  no,  about 
three  —  before  he  was  out  again." 

"  Indeed.    Old  Robert  is  still  alive,  then?  " 

"  Very  much  alive.  He's  like  a  father  to  Jack. 
Follows  him  around  like  a  shadow,  with  a  beatific, 
far  away  sort  of  expression  on  his  countenance 
that  must  be  seen  to  be  appreciated.  I  tell  you, 
Dick,  that  is  the  happiest  family  in  England." 

"  And  Mercy?  Is  she  well  and  happy,  too? 
Quite  herself,  I  mean?  " 

"  Well  and  happy?  Quite  herself  ?  You  should 
see  her.  She  was  beautiful  before  —  always,  I 
suppose,  but  she  is  a  dream  now  —  the  per- 
sonification of  bottled  up  joy  and  bliss.  There 
is  nothing  like  it  anywhere  else  in  the  world. 
And  the  children  —  " 

"  Children?  " 

"  Certainly.  What  is  the  matter  with  you? 
Isn't  it  quite  natural  that  they  should  have 
children?  It  seems  so  to  me." 

Hertford  decanted  a  glass  of  wine,  swallowed 
it,  and  then  said  calmly : 

'  Tell  me  about  them,  Archie." 

1  There  are  two  of  them,  a  boy  and  a  girl. 
Richard  —  your  namesake,  by  the  way,  for  he  is 
called  Richard  Herndon  —  is  three  years  old, 
and  Agnes  has  been  here  about  a  year;  I  don't 


FEELING  HIS  WAY  245 

know  exactly.  I'm  not  much  on  children.  As 
a  general  thing,  they  are  a  nuisance,  but  some- 
how Jack's  children  seem  different  from  the 
common  run.  I  suppose  it  is  because  they  are 
his  —  and  Mercy's;  eh?  " 

Hertford   did   not   reply.     He  was  thinking 
deeply. 


CHAPTER  XX 

A  STRANGE  THING   UNDER  THE   SUN 

THERE  was  a  short  pause  in  the  conversation, 
during  which  Richard  Hertford  bent  every  power 
of  his  strong  intellect  upon  the  problem  confront- 
ing him. 

Long  before  the  beginning  of  the  interview  with 
Lord  Quinlan,  he  had  decided  to  say  and  to  do 
nothing  regarding  the  knowledge  he  possessed 
concerning  the  real  Earl  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford 
until  he  had  made  himself  familiar  with  every- 
thing connected  with  the  installation  in  his  place 
of  the  man  who  at  that  moment  possessed  the 
title  and  estates. 

He  knew  that  it  was  of  vital  importance  that 
he  should  know  everything  before  he  acted.  He 
realized  that  he  must  play  a  part  in  the  drama 
now  being  enacted  at  Hertford  Hall,  and  which 
had  been  going  on  for  four  or  five  years  —  he  did 
not  know  which.  That  he  must  appear  to  be 
equally  deceived  with  the  others  was  important, 
and  he  had  schooled  himself  for  the  part. 

246 


A  STRANGE  THING  247 

The  brief  mention  of  the  children  in  the  para- 
graph he  had  read  that  morning  had  not  attracted 
his  attention;  it  is  doubtful  if  he  saw  it,  so  that 
when  Quinlan  made  mention  of  them,  he  was 
astounded. 

The  information  already  imparted  by  Archie 
amazed  him  in  every  way,  for  he  could  not  under- 
stand how  two  people  could  be  so  perfectly  happy 
as  they  were  described  to  be,  with  the  constant 
dread  of  a  terrible  exposure  hanging  over  them. 
That  Lady  Mercy  was  a  party  to  the  deception,  he 
did  not  doubt.  He  could  not  doubt  it.  How, 
indeed,  could  it  be  otherwise? 

It  was  within  the  realm  of  possibility  that  a 
stranger  might  impose  upon  the  credulity  of  the 
world  at  large,  and  convince  it  that  he  was  some- 
body whom  he  really  was  not.  Such  things  had 
been  done  before,  and  successfully  done.  Cir- 
cumstances, personal  likeness,  a  thousand  dif- 
ferent things  united,  might  create  the  means  for 
bringing  about  such  a  condition,  if  the  director 
of  it  all  were  a  man  of  resource,  and  had 
thoroughly  prepared  himself  for  the  part  he  was 
to  play. 

Hertford  realized  this  fully,  even  in  the  face  of 
having  to  deceive  such  intimate  friends  as  Quinlan 
and  Buxton.  But  there  were  two  persons  who  he 
believed  could  not  be  deceived  —  that  is,  if  they 


248    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

continued  in  their  right  minds.  They  were  Lady 
Mercy  and  old  Robert. 

In  his  thoughts  he  dwelt  upon  Robert  first. 
The  man  who  had  cared  for  Lord  John  since  his 
babyhood.  There  was  not  a  mark  upon  his  body 
that  he  did  not  know.  There  was  not  a  char- 
acteristic with  which  he  was  not  familiar.  To 
deceive  old  Robert  would  be  almost  as  difficult 
as  to  deceive  his  wife.  He  could  not  believe  that 
the  old  man  had  submitted  to  a  bribe,  and  yet, 
how  else  could  the  matter  be  accounted  for? 
Had  he  been  induced  to  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
facts  because  of  his  love  for  Mercy  and  at  her 
solicitation? 

That  might  be;  but  that  brought  him  back 
again  to  the  most  revolting  part  of  the  whole 
thing,  and  that  was,  the  irrevocable  decision  — 
at  least  he  believed  it  was  irrevocable  —  that 
Mercy  herself  was  not  deceived;  that  she  was 
particeps  crimini  in  the  matter. 

"  Deceive  a  wife?  "  he  thought.  "  Deceive  a 
woman  like  Mercy  Covington?  Impossible!  " 

He  knew  that  Lord  John  had  disappeared  from 
his  wife's  side  within  a  few  hours  after  the  wedding, 
and  he  remembered  now  that  he  had  no  knowledge 
concerning  the  date  upon  which  she  had  become 
the  wife  of  his  cousin;  but  nevertheless  she  was 
his  wife  —  the  woman  who  loved  him.  How 


A  STRANGE  THING  249 

could  she  be  deceived?  But  all  this  needs  a  word 
of  explanation. 

Richard  Hertford  was  one  day,  nearly  five  years 
before  the  date  of  his  interview  with  Archie 
Quinlan,  idly  strolling  along  the  principal 
thoroughfare  in  the  city  of  Buenos  Ayres,  Argen- 
tina, impatiently  awaiting  the  time  for  the 
departure  of  a  steamer  on  which  he  had  taken 
passage  for  England. 

For  two  years  he  had  been  wandering  among  the 
forests  of  Brazil,  and  other  countries  of  South 
America,  scaling  the  Andes  and  otherwise  search- 
ing for  excitement,  adventure,  and  game.  At 
last,  he  had  tired  of  the  amusement,  and  decided 
to  return  home,  so  he  made  his  way  to  the  nearest 
seaport,  which  proved  to  be  Buenos  Ayres. 

He  was  engaged  in  inspecting  the  wares  of  a 
jeweller,  displayed  behind  a  plate  glass  window, 
when  he  felt  somebody  brush  against  him,  and 
turning  suddenly  with  a  word  of  remonstrance 
upon  his  lips,  had  almost  gasped  with  surprise 
upon  beholding,  in  the  supposed  stranger,  his 
cousin,  Lord  John  Hertford. 

On  his  own  side  the  recognition  was  instan- 
taneous; on  the  other  there  was  no  recognition 
at  all  —  at  least,  not  at  once.  In  response  to  his 
exclamations  of  astonishment  and  pleasure  at  the 
meeting,  the  earl  answered  not  a  word,  but 


250     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

stood  gazing  at  him  with  a  perplexed  expression 
upon  his  countenance  that  was  at  once  strange 
and  pathetic,  and  Hertford,  perceiving  that  some- 
thing extraordinary  was  the  matter,  linked  his 
arm  in  the  earl's  and  led  him,  a  willing  captive, 
to  his  hotel. 

There,  in  his  own  room,  away  from  eaves- 
droppers and  observers,  he  had  with  great  effort 
succeeded  in  drawing  from  the  other  a  very  little 
information  which  was  subsequently  supple- 
mented by  the  perusal  of  some  papers  that  he 
found  in  Lord  John's  possession;  and  among 
these,  by  a  strange  chance,  was  the  marriage 
certificate  of  his  union  with  Mercy  Covington. 

That  the  earl  had  met  with  a  serious  accident 
of  some  sort  was  evident,  for  aside  from  the 
condition  of  mind  in  which  his  cousin  discovered 
him,  there  was  a  livid  scar  extending  from  the 
right  cheek  bone  upwards  through  his  hair  to 
the  crown  of  his  head. 

Lord  John  was  poorly  dressed,  destitute  of 
money,  and  nearly  starved  when  Richard  Hertford 
encountered  him.  He  had  no  recollection  what- 
ever concerning  himself,  only  insisting  that  his 
name  was  Jack,  but  shook  his  head  in  hopeless 
despair  when  questioned  further. 

He  seemed,  however,  to  feel  that  he  ought  to 
know  his  cousin.  Some  faint  spark  of  recollection, 


A  STRANGE  THING  251 

almost  extinguished,  gave  him  the  impression 
that  he  had  found  a  friend,  and  he  submitted 
willingly  to  the  guidance  and  care  of  Richard 
Hertford. 

On  the  day  following  this  strange  encounter, 
the  steamer  in  which  Hertford  had  taken  passage 
for  England  was  burned  at  the  wharf,  and  im- 
patient of  delay,  the  more  so  now  that  he  was 
anxious  to  get  the  earl  to  his  home  as  speedily 
as  possible,  for  better  medical  attendance  and  care, 
the  traveller  succeeded  in  securing  berths  in  an- 
other vessel  which  was  to  sail  on  the  same  day, 
by  way  of  India  and  the  Suez  Canal,  touching  at 
several  ports  on  the  voyage. 

The  time  consumed  would  be  manifestly  greater, 
but  Lord  John's  physical  condition  seemed  per- 
fect, and  Richard  believed  that  during  the  voyage 
he  could  do  much  towards  beginning  the  mental 
cure  of  the  stricken  man. 

Subsequently,  the  ship  on  which  they  were 
passengers  became  disabled  by  the  breaking  of 
the  shaft,  and  then  they  drifted  aimlessly  about 
for  days  and  weeks  until,  at  last,  overtaken  by  a 
terrific  storm,  the  vessel  was  cast,  a  hopeless 
wreck,  upon  an  unknown  coast. 

There  were  a  dozen  survivors,  among  them 
Richard  Hertford  and  his  cousin,  and  all  of  them 
fell  into  the  hands  of  the  savages  who  inhabited 


252    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

that  wild  and  unfrequented  part  of  the  world. 
What  became  of  the  other  ten  survivors  Hertford 
never  knew,  but  by  a  fortunate  chance,  in  the 
division  of  them  among  the  savage  tribes,  the 
cousins  remained  together. 

They  were  taken  far  inland  by  their  captors, 
who  made  slaves  of  them,  compelling  them  to 
perform  the  most  menial  kinds  of  labour,  and  sub- 
jecting them  to  daily  tortures  under  which  only 
the  hardiest  and  strongest  constitutions  could 
hope  to  survive. 

Under  this  severe  treatment,  the  earl  failed 
daily,  until  at  last  he  was  unable  to  get  about  at 
all ;  but  as  his  bodily  health  declined,  his  mental- 
ity became  stronger,  so  that  slowly  but  surely 
recollection  of  many  things  returned  to  him. 

The  wreck  had  deprived  them  of  everything 
they  possessed  except  what  they  carried  upon 
their  persons,  and  even  this  had  been  taken 
from  them  by  the  natives,  with  their  clothing, 
so  that  the  papers  that  Lord  John  had  somehow 
preserved  until  after  his  meeting  with  Richard 
were  also  lost. 

Richard  Hertford  did  everything  that  man 
could  do  to  preserve  the  life  of  his  cousin.  When 
the  natives  would  have  put  him  to  death  because 
he  was  no  longer  useful  to  them,  he  gladly  took 
upon  himself  the  labour  of  both  in  order  that  his 


A  STRANGE  THING  253 

life  might  be  spared.  But  he  continued  to  grow 
weaker  and  weaker,  while  his  brain  became 
stronger  and  clearer,  and  at  last  he  died. 

After  he  was  gone,  when  Richard  had  time  to 
go  over,  with  great  care,  all  that  had  been  revealed 
to  him  during  those  last  days,  he  was  forced  to 
admit  that  it  did  not  tell  him  half  he  wished  to 
know  —  not  half  of  all  that  he  should  know, 
and,  reduced  to  a  simple  statement,  it  really  did 
not  amount  to  much. 

Written  out  at  length  by  Richard  Hertford 
after  his  escape  from  the  savages  and  while  he  was 
in  Bombay,  that  part  of  it  which  is  important 
here  was  this: 

Lord  John  Hertford  and  Lady  Mercy  Covington 
were  married  at  the  Church  of  the  Annunciation,  in 

London,  on  the  (the  exact  date  is  forgotten) 

day  of  May,  18 — .  The  day  was  beautiful.  There 
was  a  wedding  breakfast  at  the  residence  of 
Lord  Hertford,  an  informal  reception  during  the 
day,  and  a  grand  function  of  the  same  sort  in 
the  evening.  In  the  midst  of  it,  Robert,  Jack's 
man,  brought  him  a  note,  or  a  message,  or  some- 
thing —  it  is  not  clear  what  it  was,  which  induced 
the  earl  to  leave  his  bride  and  go  out  of  the  house 
alone. 

He  did  not  remember  why  he  went  out,  or  who 
it  was  who  called  him,  and  from  the  moment 


254    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

when  he  left  his  own  door  all  recollection  ceases, 
until  he  was  too  ill  to  be  about,  lying  under  a 
thatch  roof  beneath  the  scalding  sun  of  Borneo. 
He  died  in  my  arms  and  was  buried  by  me  there, 
where  he  died,  in  Borneo.  Prior  to  the  date  of 
his  marriage,  his  memory  was  exact  and  correct, 
but  from  the  instant  that  he  received  the  blow 
which  destroyed  his  mind,  everything  was  blank. 
He  remembered  nothing  of  having  been  in  Buenos 
Ayres,  how  he  got  there,  how  long  he  was  there, 
or  in  fact  anything  whatever  concerning  his  life 
after  the  blow  fell  upon  him. 

That  he  had  received  a  blow  is  proven  by  the 
fact  that  there  was  a  livid  scar  extending  from 
the  right  cheek  bone  upwards  through  the  hair 
to  the  crown  of  his  head.  His  hair  covered  the 
scar,  but  had  not  grown  through  it.  From  its 
appearance,  I  should  say  it  was  inflicted  by  a 
sharp  pointed  instrument,  for  example,  such  as 
longshoremen  use  in  the  pursuit  of  their  occupa- 
tion; in  other  words,  an  iron  hook. 

That  is  all  that  has  to  do  with  the  purposes 
of  this  history. 

When  Richard  Hertford  arrived  in  Bombay, 
he  found  that  he  was  unacquainted  with  any  of 
the  officers  stationed  there  —  in  short,  that  he 
knew  nobody,  and  his  first  care,  after  providing 
himself  with  proper  clothing,  and  —  by  means  of 


A  STRANGE  THING  255 

the  cable,  by  which  he  communicated  with  his 
bankers  —  money,  was  to  secure  a  file  of  London 
papers,  and  study  them,  and  it  so  happened  that 
one  of  the  first  things  he  saw  was  a  mention  of 
the  doings  of  Lord  John  Hertford  and  his  beautiful 
wife,  formerly  Lady  Mercy  Covington. 

For  a  time  he  would  not  believe  the  evidence 
of  his  own  eyes,  but  when  he  came  across 
announcements  of  like  character  again  and  yet 
again,  he  told  himself  that  some  monstrous  thing 
had  happened  —  some  terrible  thing  which  it 
was  his  duty,  to  the  dead  and  the  living  alike, 
to  investigate. 

Again  he  had  recourse  to  the  cable.  His  bankers 
were  instructed  to  furnish  him  with  certain  infor- 
mation at  once,  and  requested  to  keep  the  fact  of 
his  reappearance  in  the  world  a  close  secret  until 
he  gave  permission  to  reveal  it.  He  gave  his 
confidence  to  nobody,  but  he  studied  and  thought, 
and  wrote  unceasingly;  and  he  remained  in 
Bombay,  using  only  the  cables  for  his  source  of 
information,  until  he  was  assured  that  there 
could  be  no  doubt  that  another  and  a  stranger 
had  usurped  the  place  that  had  belonged  to  his 
dead  cousin,  and  now  bore  the  title  and  enjoyed 
the  estates  which,  by  right,  were  his  own. 

Then,  when  he  was  satisfied  that  all  that  could 
be  done  at  that  distance  was  accomplished,  when 


256     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

his  health  was  entirely  recovered,  and  he  felt 
in  every  way  equal  to  the  task  before  him,  he 
took  ship  for  home. 

The  long,  almost  endless  hours  consumed  by 
that  journey  were  hours  of  reflection  and  study 
to  him. 

The  condition  that  he  was  obliged  to  face  when 
he  should  arrive  upon  the  scene  was  beyond  his 
imagination.  Try  as  he  might,  he  could  not 
understand  its  possibility,  and  he  often  wondered 
if  he  were  not  suffering  from  some  hideous  night- 
mare, some  devilish  hallucination  which  would 
fade  away  and  be  forgotten  the  moment  he 
stepped  foot  upon  English  soil. 

And  now,  after  all  he  had  gone  through,  in 
thought,  in  study,  in  wonder  and  in  alarm,  he 
confronted  the  most  amazing  condition  of  all,  for 
here  before  him,  in  the  city  of  London  itself,  was 
the  closest  and  most  intimate  friend  Lord  John 
had  ever  knowjti,  who  calmly  told  him  that  the 
earl  and  Lady  Mercy  had  just  returned  from  their 
honeymoon  on  the  Continent  when  a  certain  acci- 
dent occurred;  that  they  had  been  travelling  to- 
gether a  year;  that  they  were  blissfully  happy, 
and  that  Lord  John  had  changed,  "  not  a  bit." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

ROBERT   IS   PUT   ON   THE   RACK 

RICHARD  HERTFORD  raised  his  eyes  and  asked: 

"  When  are  you  going  down  to  Hertford  Hall, 
Archie?  " 

"  Next  week;  during  the  early  part  of  it,"  was 
the  instant  reply. 

"  I  will  go  with  you." 

"  Good.    That  is  what  I  want  you  to  do." 

"  But  before  I  go,  I  wish  I  could  have  an  inter- 
view with  old  Robert." 

"  Why?  " 

"  Well,  to  make  the  surprise  more  complete, 
I  would  like  to  have  a  talk  with  him  and  make 
some  arrangements.  Robert  loves  me  almost  as 
well  as  he  used  to  love  Jack,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know;  as  he  used  to  love  Jack;  but  the 
love  that  he  used  to  bear  his  master  was  nothing 
to  the  adoration  and  worship  that  he  gives  him 
now." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  That  he  loves  him  better 
than  he  ever  did?  " 

257 


258    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"Yes;  it  increases  with  his  years.  However, 
I  do  not  think  there  will  be  any  difficulty  about 
your  seeing  him,  for  he  is  in  town." 

"In  town?  Didn't  he  go  down  with  —  with 
the  family?  " 

"  No.  He  was  left  behind  for  a  few  days  to 
attend  to  some  extra  commissions  for  Jack.  I 
think  you  will  find  him  at  the  house  now.  Shall 
I  go  around  with  you?  " 

"  No.  I  know  you  have  an  engagement  of 
some  sort,  and  I  will  not  detain  you.  Suppose 
you  breakfast  with  me  at  Browne's  at  ten  in  the 
morning.  Can  you  do  that?  " 

"  Certainly.  I'd  like  to  see  Robert  when  he 
discovers  you,  though." 

Richard  only  laughed.  He  did  not  invite  Lord 
Archie  to  accompany  him,  and  so  presently  the 
young  peer  rose  to  take  his  leave,  after  reaffirming 
the  agreement  to  breakfast  together  on  the 
following  morning. 

Richard  Hertford  remained  buried  in  thought 
for  a  long  time  after  he  was  again  alone,  and  the 
burden  of  his  meditation  was : 

"  What  shall  I  say  to  Robert?  " 

No  matter  how  much  study  he  gave  to  the 
problem,  however,  he  could  not  decide  what 
was  best  to  do,  and  at  last,  with  a  heavy  sigh, 
he  rose  and  prepared  himself  for  the  street, 


ROBERT  IS  PUT  ON  THE  RACK  259 

having  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be 
best  to  be  governed  entirely  by  circumstances, 
and  to  permit  events  to  shape  themselves. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  he  rang 
the  bell  at  the  side  door  of  the  London  residence  — 
the  same  door  through  which  John  Ashton  had 
entered  on  that  eventful  night  when  the  old 
servant  discovered  him  —  and  the  summons  was 
immediately  answered  by  the  faithful  servant, 
who  was  entirely  alone,  and  who  had  just  begun 
his  preparations  for  bed. 

Hertford  stepped  through  the  door  into  the 
entry  without  speaking,  while  Robert  drew  back 
to  permit  him  to  answer,  for,  coming  back  from 
the  lighted  room  as  he  had,  and  emerging  into 
the  darkness  of  the  entry,  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  see  the  features  of  his  caller  with  sufficient 
distinctness  to  recognize  him  —  and  Richard 
Hertford  was  certainly  the  last  person  in  the 
world  whom  he  at  that  moment  expected  to 
encounter. 

This  was  as  Richard  had  hoped  it  would  be, 
for  by  that  means  he  would  be  enabled  to  deter- 
mine if  the  old  man's  intelligence  had  remained 
unimpaired  sufficiently  for  him  to  recognize  his 
voice  in  the  darkness. 

"  A  voice,"  he  had  argued  to  himself,  "  is  the 
most  difficult  thing  in  the  world  to  counterfeit, 


260     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

and  if  Robert  recognizes  mine,  and  by  it  knows  me 
at  once,  I  will  know  that  he  could  not  have  been 
deceived  by  the  voice  of  this  interloper  who  has 
stolen  everything  that  poor  Jack  possessed." 

He  stepped  through  into  the  entry,  closing 
the  door  behind  him,  thus  enveloping  them  in 
darkness  that  was  almost  total,  and  then,  while  the 
old  man  waited  in  respectful  silence,  he  spoke. 

"  Is  the  earl  in  town?  "  he  asked  indifferently; 
and  he  heard  Robert  utter  a  gasp  of  surprise, 
and  knew  that  he  started  back  with  astonish- 
ment, so  he  continued:  "  I  have  heard  he  has 
returned  from  Switzerland,  but  that  he  has 
already  gone  to  Hertford  Hall." 

"  Who  are  you,  sir?  "  exclaimed  Robert  in  a 
low  tone.  "  Pardon  me,  if  you  please,  sir,  but  I  — 
there  was  something  about  your  voice  which 
seemed  familiar.  Will  you  speak  again,  sir?  " 

"  I  have  been  absent  a  long  time,  and  you  may 
have  forgotten  me,"  said  Hertford  slowly;  but  the 
next  instant  he  felt  himself  seized  in  an  embrace 
that  was  almost  frantic,  while  the  old  man  cried 
out  in  a  voice  that  was  tremulous  with  agitation : 

"  Forgotten  you?  Forgotten  Mr.  Richard? 
No,  no!  I  could  not  forget  you.  Thank  God! 
Thank  God!  Oh,  sir,  forgive  me.  I  could  not 
restrain  myself.  We  have  despaired  of  your  return. 
We  have  all  feared  that  something  dreadful  had 


ROBERT  IS  PUT  ON  THE  RACK  261 

happened  to  you,  you  have  been  away  so  long. 
But  come  in,  come  in,  sir,  where  there  is  a  light 
so  that  I  can  see  your  face.  How  delighted  Mr. 
Jack  and  Miss  Mercy  —  excuse  me  —  my  lord 
and  my  lady  will  be  to  welcome  you  home  again. 
Come  in,  come  in,  Mr.  Richard.  Oh,  sir,  I  am  made 
ten  years  younger  by  this  minute.  They  do  not 
know  at  the  Hall  that  you  have  returned?  That 
is  good.  We  will  surprise  them,  and  then  my  old 
eyes  will  see  you  and  my  Jack  together  again. 
God  is  good  to  me,  Mr.  Richard,  very  good.  Come 
in,  come  in." 

Trembling  with  excitement,  the  old  man  led 
him  into  the  same  room  to  which  he  had  con- 
ducted John  Ashton  long  ago,  clinging  to  him 
as  if  he  feared  that  if  he  released  his  hold,  the 
apparition  —  for  such  he  almost  feared  it  might 
turn  out  to  be  —  would  fly  away  and  leave  him. 

But  it  was  no  apparition,  as  the  next  moment 
proved  to  his  satisfaction,  for  beneath  the  bright 
lights  of  the  room,  the  sturdy,  athletic,  magnif- 
icently proportioned  figure  of  Richard  Hertford 
proved  to  be  very  material. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Richard!  It  is  Mr.  Richard!  "  cried 
Robert,  nearly  beside  himself.  "  Sit  down,  sir, 
sit  down.  What  can  I  get  for  you?  A  glass  of 
wine?  A  cigar?  In  one  moment." 

He  disappeared  in  spite  of  Richard's  remon- 


262     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

strance,  and  presently  was  back  again  bearing  a 
tray  upon  which  he  had  arranged  everything 
that  he  could  hastily  secure,  and  then,  while  his 
visitor  laughingly  helped  himself,  he  stood  back, 
eagerly  regarding  him,  with  all  his  good  old  soul 
in  his  eyes. 

"  When  did  you  arrive  in  town,  Mr.  Richard?  " 
he  asked  at  last. 

"  Only  this  evening,  Robert,"  was  the  reply. 
"  I  saw  Lord  Quinlan,  and  he  told  me  that  you 
were  here,  so  I  decided  to  come  and  see  you,  and 
so  get  all  the  news  from  the  best  possible  source; 
and  you  must  have  a  lot  to  tell  me,  Robert,  for 
I  have  not  received  a  line  concerning  those  I 
love  since  I  went  away,  seven  years  ago." 

"  Seven  years;  seven  years  and  two  months, 
sir.  You  see,  I  remember.  It  is  a  very  long 
time,  Mr.  Richard.  Many  things  happen  in  seven 
years,"  and  he  cast  his  eyes  downward  as  his 
thoughts  went  back  to  one  year  out  of  that  seven, 
that  had  been  a  year  of  torture  to  himself  and  to 
one  other  whom  he  could  have  named. 

However,  that  secret  had  been  religiously  kept 
between  him  and  the  countess,  and  he  had 
promised  her  upon  his  faith  in  God  that  he  would 
never  reveal  it  to  anybody ;  but  he  did  not  when 
he  made  the  promise  foresee,  and  he  could  not 
now  imagine,  how  difficult  the  keeping  of  his 


ROBERT  IS  PUT  ON  THE  RACK  263 

promise  would  one  day  prove  to  be.  He  did  not 
anticipate  the  questions  that  he  was  on  the  point 
of  being  called  upon  to  answer.  He  had  never 
realized  that  he  would  have  to  utter  lies  — 
downright  lies,  in  order  to  keep  his  word  with 
Lady  Mercy;  but  the  time  was  at  hand. 

"  Yes,"  said  Hertford,  "  many  things  may 
happen  in  seven  years,  and  it  is  to  find  out  from 
a  source  that  I  know  is  absolutely  truth  itself, 
that  I  have  come  to  you  to  ascertain  just  what  has 
happened." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Robert,  brightening  again, 
"  I  can  tell  you  all  that  has  happened  to  us,  in  a 
very  short  time.  There  was  the  wedding  of  Mr. 
John  and  Lady  Mercy,  and  there  are  the  children 
—  two  of  them,  Mr.  Richard!  and  such  good, 
beautiful  children  you  never  did  see,  and  never 
can  see  elsewhere." 

"  I  quite  believe  that,  Robert,  from  your  stand- 
point, at  least." 

"  The  first  was  a  boy,  sir  —  and  such  a  boy! 
The  very  living  image  of  Mr.  John!  and  as  like 
him  as  two  peas!  And  my  lord  did  not  forget 
you,  sir.  No,  indeed!  Miss  Mercy  wished  the 
boy  to  have  her  father's  name,  but  he  insisted 
that  he  should  have  yours,  and  have  it  he  did. 
Mr.  John  insisted  that  he  should  have  your  name 
and  no  other." 


264    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"The  devil  he  did!" 

"  Eh?  Yes,  sir.  Young  Richard  is  past  three, 
but  he  looks  five  he  is  so  manly  and  brave.  You 
will  see  in  him  the  image  of  what  his  father  was 
at  his  age,  sir.  And  the  little  girl  is  Agnes,  for 
Lady  Agnes  Dunmore.  That  was  the  wish  of 
Lady  Mercy.  She  is  almost  a  year  and  a  half 
old,  Mr.  Richard,  and  as  beautiful  as  Lady 
Mercy  herself,  only  I  think  she  also  favours 
the  Hertfords  more  than  she  does  the  Coving- 
tons." 

"  Lord  Quinlan  referred  to  an  accident  that 
happened  to  the  earl,  Robert,"  interposed  Hert- 
ford. "What  was  it?" 

11  That  was  a  year  and  one  day  after  the  wed- 
ding, sir,"  said  Robert,  turning  away  his  head  for 
an  instant.  "  Lord  Quinlan's  horses  knocked  him 
down  in  Piccadilly.  His  head  was  hurt,  and  some 
of  his  ribs  were  broken;  but  he  is  all  right  now, 
though  he  was  confined  to  his  bed  for  a  long 
time.  It  was  three  or  four  months  before  he  was 
able  to  leave  the  house." 

"  Indeed!  Who  cared  for  him  during  that 
time,  Robert?  " 

"  Who?  Why,  my  lady,  sir.  Who  else  would 
she  permit  to  care  for  him?  She  rarely  left  his 
side,  and  she  nearly  wore  herself  out  in  her 
attendance  upon  him.  But  everybody  is  well 


ROBERT  IS   PUT  ON  THE  RACK  265 

now,  sir,  and  very  happy.  God  has  been  very 
good  to  us  all." 

"  Humph!  Where  was  Lady  Mercy  when  the 
accident  happened?  " 

"  Here,  sir,  in  this  house.  He  had  just  left 
her  only  a  few  moments  before  —  the  time  that 
it  takes  to  walk  from  here  to  the  scene  of  the 
accident  —  Albemarle  Street  and  Piccadilly." 

"  I  understand  that  they  had  just  returned 
from  their  honeymoon  trip,  Robert;  is  that 
so?" 

"  Yes,  sir;  just  returned,"  said  Robert,  looking 
away  again. 

"  When  did  they  return?  When  did  they  arrive 
at  this  house?  " 

"  Just  the  evening  before,  the  earl  came, 
sir." 

"  The  earl  came!  Did  not  the  countess  come 
with  him?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir.  It  is  the  same,  is  it  not? 
They  are  never  apart  for  more  than  an  hour  at 
a  time." 

Richard  Hertford  sighed.  The  complexity  of 
affairs  was  getting  to  be  more  than  he 'could 
master. 

"  Were  you  abroad  with  them,  Robert?  "  was 
his  next  question. 

"  No,  sir,  I  remained  here." 


266     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  How  was  that?  I  thought  that  the  earl 
always  took  you  with  him  when  he  travelled?  " 

"  I  did  not  go  with  him  at  that  time,  sir.  I 
remained  here." 

"  Why  was  that,  Robert?  " 

"  I  suppose  he  did  not  want  me,  sir." 

"  That  is  strange.    Whom  did  he  take?  " 

"  I  think,  sir,  that  he  did  not  take  anybody  at 
all." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  they  travelled 
alone? " 

"  Yes,  sir.  I  know  that  Lady  Mercy  did  not 
have  a  maid,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  Mr.  John 
had  no  man  with  him." 

Robert  was  becoming  very  uneasy  under  this 
close  questioning,  and  he  wondered  at  it  without 
once  imagining  the  true  reason,  for  if  he  attributed 
any  cause  to  it  at  all,  it  was  to  the  interest  that 
Richard  Hertford  felt  in  everything  that  had 
happened  during  the  time  of  his  absence.  Never- 
theless, the  questions  worried  him;  but  he  was  a 
servant  who  was  too  well  trained  to  express  sur- 
prise, or  to  question  his  interrogator. 

'  Was  not  that  a  strange  thing  for  them  to 
do,  Robert?  "  asked  Hertford. 

"  Perhaps  so,  sir;  I  do  not  know." 
'  Was  it  the  earl's  wish  or  did  the  countess 
desire  it?  " 


ROBERT  IS  PUT  ON  THE  RACK  267 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir." 

"  What  time  did  they  start  upon  their  journey? 
What  train  did  they  take?  " 

"  It  was  rather  late  in  the  evening,  sir." 

"  They  did  go  away  that  same  night,  eh?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir.  May  I  refill  your  glass,  Mr. 
Richard?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  like.  Let  me  think  a  moment. 
Did  not  Lord  Quinlan  say  something  about  an 
event  which  happened  during  the  reception? 
Oh,  yes !  My  cousin  was  called  out  by  something, 
or  somebody,  was  he  not?  " 

"  Yes,  sir;  but  he  was  only  called  away  for  a 
moment.  The  guests  did  not  know  about  it." 

"  Was  he  absent  from  the  house  for  a  long 
time,  Robert,  or  did  he  return  immediately?  " 

Poor  Robert !  Here  was  a  question  that  he  had 
not  anticipated,  and  he  did  not  know  how  to 
reply,  so  he  sat  staring  at  his  companion, 
speechless. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

TWO   SIDES   TO    A    PICTURE 

RICHARD  HERTFORD  pretended  not  to  notice 
the  perturbation  that  disturbed  the  old  servant. 
It  was  not  his  policy  to  do  so,  but  on  the  reply 
he  believed  a  vital  point  depended.  He  perceived 
that  Robert  was  astonished  and  dismayed  by  the 
questions,  so  he  purposely  uttered  them  as  calmly 
and  as  indifferently  as  it  was  possible  to  do. 

"  Who  was  it  that  called  him  out?  "  he  asked, 
presently,  leaving  the  last  question  unanswered, 
but  determining  to  return  to  it  again. 

"  I  do  not  know,  sir." 

"  And  was  he  out  long?  " 

"  I  was  trying  to  remember,"  murmured  Rob- 
ert, partially  recovering  himself  as  he  recalled 
the  fact  that  in  deceiving  this  man  he  was  acting 
under  the  specific  orders  of  his  mistress,  and  that 
his  allegiance  belonged  to  her  and  not  to  him. 
"It  is  so  long  ago  that  I  am  sure  I  cannot  be 
exact  about  the  time.  I  remember  that  he  was 
gone  so  long  that  we  became  anxious." 

268 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      269 

"  Ah!    He  did  return,  then?  " 

"  Did  return?    Why,  sir,  what  do  you  mean?  " 

It  was  Richard's  turn  to  be  somewhat  dis- 
mayed now.  Had  he  said  too  much?  He  feared 
so,  for  the  moment,  and  therefore  he  repeated 
the  question  in  another  form. 

"  I  mean,"  he  said,  "  were  the  guests  still  here 
when  he  returned?  " 

"  I  think  not,  sir.  I  know  that  he  did  not  see 
them  again." 

"  Was  not  that  a  strange  proceeding,  Robert?  " 

The  old  man's  eyes  flashed  indignantly,  as  he 
replied  with  deliberation: 

"  I  have  never  presumed  to  question  the 
conduct  of  Lord  John  Hertford,  sir." 

"  Forgive  me,  Robert.  Of  course  you  have  not. 
You  are  such  an  old  friend,  that  I  forget  that  you 
are  a  servant.  You  saw  Jack  when  he  returned?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir.  I  was  the  first  to  see  him." 
It  was  the  absolute  truth,  as  Robert  understood 
the  facts,  even  though  it  was  misleading  so  far 
as  Richard  Hertford  was  concerned. 

"  How  did  he  look?  Had  anything  happened  to 
him  during  his  absence?  " 

"  He  did  not  tell  me  that  anything  had  hap- 
pened, sir." 

".Did  he  talk  with  you  then?  " 

11  Why,  yes,  sir,  I  believe  so.    I  don't  suppose 


270     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

my  memory  is  as  good  as  it  was  once,  and  I  fear 
that  I  could  not  repeat  the  conversation.  May 
I  ask  a  question,  Mr.  Richard?  " 

"Certainly,  Robert;    certainly.     What  is  it?" 

"  Why,  sir,  it  seems  strange  —  I  beg  your 
pardon  —  that  you  should  be  so  interested  about 
such  matters,  and  I  feared  that  something  might 
have  been  said  that  had  come  to  your  ears,  about 
the  fact  that  Mr.  John  did  not  see  his  guests  again 
that  night.  I  only  wished  to  ask  if  such  is  the 
case,  and  if  it  is,  to  beg  that  you  will  not  repeat 
it  to  my  lady." 

"  No,  no,  Robert.  Something  that  Quinlan 
said  put  it  into  my  head,  I  suppose.  It  really  is 
not  worth  consideration." 

"  Well,  sir,  Mr.  John  complained  of  a  headache 
that  morning,  while  taking  his  bath.  I  remember 
it  very  well,  and  that  evening  it  was  announced 
in  the  drawing-room  that  he  was  not  well,  and 
wished  to  be  excused.  I  think,  sir,  that  he  was 
anxious  about  something,  but  he  did  not  tell  me 
what  it  was.  In  fact,  I  had  noticed  for  some  days 
that  something  troubled  him,  but  I  ought  not 
to  mention  it,  sir,  and  I  hope  you  will  pardon 
me.  I  think  it  is  the  first  time  in  my  life  that 
I—" 

'  Yes,  yes,  Robert.  You  are,  of  the  best  of 
servants,  I  know,  My  questions  are  to  blame 


TWO   SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      271 

for  your  uneasiness.  Do  you  know  where  they 
travelled,  while  on  their  honeymoon?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  And  they  are  very  happy,  now?  " 

"  I  never  saw  two  people  happier,  sir." 

"  The  earl  is  just  like  his  old  self,  eh?  " 

"  Yes  indeed!  "  (Robert  was  on  safe  ground 
now.)  "  He  will  be  so  delighted  to  see  you." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that.  Quite  sure.  I  will  be  none 
the  less  pleased  when  I  am  face  to  face  with  him. 
He  has  not  changed  at  all,  eh?  " 

"  Not  at  all." 

Richard  Hertford  was  silent  a  moment,  and 
then,  in  a  tone  that  suggested  that  he  had  just 
recalled  the  fact,  he  said  suddenly : 

"  I  wonder  if  that  old  mark  has  worn  away 
yet." 

"  What  old  mark  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Richard?  " 
asked  Robert. 

"  He  used  to  say,"  continued  Hertford, 
musingly,  and  as  if  he  had  not  heard  Robert's 
question,  "  that  when  that  mark  disappeared, 
he  would  die.  He  was  always  superstitious 
about  it,  you  know,  because  nobody  seemed  to 
know  how  it  got  there." 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir.  I  know  now  what  you  mean. 
That  tattoo  mark  on  his  breast.  I  have  often 
heard  him  say  the  same  thing." 


272    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  It  has  not  disappeared  then?  " 

"No.  It  is  quite  plain  yet,  though  much  fainter 
than  when  he  was  a  boy.  It  will  never  wear 
away,  sir." 

"  Have  you  seen  it  lately?  "  exclaimed  Richard, 
for  the  instant  astonished  out  of  his  usual  calm, 
for  that  was  the  one  thing  upon  which  he  had 
depended,  should  all  else  fail,  to  prove  that  the 
present  incumbent  of  the  title  of  the  Earl  of 
Ashton  and  Cowingford  was  a  fraud.  And  now 
Robert  referred  to  it  as  though  it  were  marked 
upon  his  person,  where  Richard  was  positive 
that  it  could  not  be.  He  had  seen  it  upon  the 
breast  of  the  man  who  had  died  in  Borneo.  It 
was  not  possible  that  its  counterpart  could  be 
on  the  breast  of  this  stranger. 

'  Yes,  sir,"  replied  Robert.  "I  see  it  every 
day  —  that  is,  every  morning  when  I  lay  out  his 
clothes  for  him,  and  rub  him  down  after  his 
exercise  with  the  clubs,  and  his  cold  plunge. 
He  is  just  as  particular  about  all  that  as  he 
always  was." 

Hertford  stared  at  Robert  in  dismay. 

"  Is  this  old  man  lying  to  me?  "  he  asked  him- 
self. "  It  must  be  so.  I  will  never  believe  that 
the  man  who  at  this  moment  bears  the  title  of 
Lord  John  Hertford  wears  the  same  mark  as 
that  upon  the  breast  of  my  cousin  who  died  in 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      273 

my  arms  in  Borneo.  It  cannot  be.  This  alone 
convinces  me  that  I  am  face  to  face  with  a  mon- 
strous conspiracy  in  which  Robert  Smithson  is 
implicated  as  one  of  the  parties.  And  if  that  is 
so,  Mercy  Covington  must  also  be  a  party  to  it." 

His  questions  ceased  and  he  sat  there  thinking, 
forgetting  where  he  was  in  the  intensity  of  his 
concentration  of  mind  upon  the  subject  confront- 
ing him. 

When  he  began  the  conversation  with  Robert, 
he  was  immediately  convinced  of  the  innocence 
of  the  old  servant  of  any  complicity  in  the  fraud 
that  had  been  perpetrated,  but  now  he  believed 
differently;  and  the  more  he  thought  of  it,  the 
stronger  became  his  conviction  that  he  was  being 
deliberately  deceived;  and  the  change  in  his 
sentiments  was  due  entirely  to  Robert's  assertion 
that  the  tattooed  heart  was  upon  the  breast  of 
the  man  now  at  Hertford  Hall. 

"  I  must  go  down  there  and  see  for  myself," 
he  mused.  "  There  is  no  other  way.  I,  too,  must 
pretend  to  accept  this  fellow,  and  I  must  keep 
up  that  pretence  until  the  moment  comes  when  I 
can  unmask  him.  But  will  that  moment  ever 
come?  I  have  nothing  except  my  unsupported 
word  to  offer;  how,  then,  can  I  hope  to  prove 
that  my  statements  are  correct?  Certainly  my 
word  will  not  stand  for  a  moment  against  the 


274    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

assertions  of  the  countess,  particularly  in  such  a 
matter  as  this.  What  could  I,  who  have  been  seven 
years  absent  from  England,  know  that  can  be 
proved  to  be  better  knowledge  than  that  pos- 
sessed by  the  Countess  of  Ashton  and  Cowingford? 
Nothing!  If  I  should  undertake  to  do  such  a 
thing,  there  would  at  once  be  a  cry  raised,  that 
disappointed  because  of  his  marriage  and  the  birth 
of  an  heir,  I  make  the  attempt  to  prove  my  case 
only  in  the  hope  of  succeeding  to  the  title  myself. 
The  whole  world  would  laugh  at  me,  and  end  by 
putting  me  in  prison  —  or  in  a  lunatic  asylum. 

"  There  is  only  one  way  —  only  one  thing  that 
offers  any  hope  of  success,  as  I  see  the  conditions 
now,  and  that  is,  to  marshal  all  my  forces,  and 
then,  when  they  are  sufficiently  strong,  confront 
the  man  himself  with  them,  and  so  force  a  con- 
fession from  him;  and  that  confession  cannot  be 
in  secret,  for  then  it  would  avail  nothing.  There 
must  be  concealed  listeners  —  men  whose  oaths 
will  be  unassailable. 

"Well,  then?  What  then?  What  do  I  gain 
by  all  this?  The  title?  I  do  not  want  it.  Its 
possession  would  be  a  nuisance  and  a  bore.  I  do 
not  want  it.  What  else?  The  downfall  of  Mercy 
Covington,  who,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  is  at 
this  moment  living  with  a  man  to  whom  she  is 
not  married,  and  is  the  mother  of  children  who 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      275 

have  no  legal  existence?  Shall  I  be  the  one  to 
expose  all  this?  I  who  have  exiled  myself  from 
civilization  because  I  loved  her,  and  knowing 
that  she  loved  my  cousin  Jack,  went  away  that 
he  might  win  her  and  make  her  happy?  Shall 
I  do  this?  Can  I  do  it?  My  God,  who  can  reply 
to  that  question  for  me?  Certainly  I  can  answer 
it  for  myself.  Can  I  crush  her  to  the  earth, 
steal  away  her  good  name  and  destroy  her  for 
ever,  even  though  she  has  sinned  beyond  redemp- 
tion? Would  that  be  evidence  of  my  great  love 
for  her? 

"  She  loves  this  man.  I  hear  it  on  every  side. 
Their  happiness  has  been  dinned  into  my  ears 
by  Quinlan  and  by  Robert  until  I  am  convinced 
of  its  truth.  Do  I  not  owe  the  same  duty  to  her 
love  for  him  that  I  did  to  her  love  for  Jack? 
And  ought  I  not  to  protect,  rather  than  to  crush 
him,  if  I  am  consistent? 

"  And  if  she  loves  him,  does  she  not  love  her 
children  even  more?  Are  they  not  more  to  her 
than  all  the  world  besides,  and  shall  I  manifest 
my  love  for  her  by  destroying  them  as  I  might 
crush  worms  in  my  path?  Is  it  just,  and  have 
I  the  right  to  take  away  their  names,  to  deny  to 
them  legal  existence?  Shall  I  wantonly  crush 
two  innocent  babes,  and  cast  them  forth  upon 
the  world,  covered  with  shame  —  I  who  do  not 


276     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

want  the  title,  who  have  no  use  for  the  estates? 
I,  who  love  their  mother?  Shall  I  drag  the  name 
of  Hertford  in  the  dust  and  mire  of  a  scandal 
such  as  this?  Shall  I  render  Jack's  memory  a 
byword,  and  shock  the  whole  world  with  the 
history  of  his  wife's  crime?  " 

Robert  had  silently  left  the  room  during  this 
interval  of  thought,  and  now  Richard  Hertford 
rose  and  with  bowed  head  and  clenched  hands 
began  pacing  the  floor. 

"That  is  one  side,"  he  continued.  "Let  me 
look  at  the  other;  let  me  study  the  events,  as  in 
my  imagination  I  can  see  them,  one  by  one, 
chronologically : 

"  There  is  a  wedding.  The  whole  town  is 
invited.  The  day  passes;  evening  falls.  The 
parlours  are  alight;  perfume  fills  the  air;  music 
plays  behind  banks  of  flowers ;  guests  throng  the 
house.  The  groom  and  his  bride  wait  in  their 
allotted  place  to  receive  the  congratulations  of 
their  friends ;  the  first,  happy  beyond  the  dreams 
of  heaven;  the  other,  concealing  the  heart  of  a 
fiend  beneath  the  smiling  exterior  of  a  beautiful 
and  happy  bride.  The  whole  world  —  their 
world  —  stands  spellbound  at  the  spectacle  of  a 
pair  so  fortunately  united,  so  appropriately 
matched,  so  happy  in  the  possession  of  each  other. 
The  gates  of  heaven  seem  wide  open  before  themj 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      277 

the  very  air  is  filled  with  peace,  and  joy,  and  har- 
mony, and  love. 

"  Outside,  in  the  dark,  concealed  by  the  shrub- 
bery near  the  side  door  of  the  mansion,  lurks  a 
human  figure,  shrouded  in  the  gloom.  In  face 
and  in  figure  he  is  strangely  like  the  groom.  In 
costume,  he  is  identical.  In  creating  the  likeness, 
whatever  nature  has  failed  to  do,  art  has  supplied. 
Outwardly  they  are  the  same,  in  face,  in  form, 
in  figure,  in  feature,  in  voice,  in  motion  —  for 
it  must  all  be  so  in  order  to  deceive  those  who 
have  been  and  are  to  be  deceived  —  but  inwardly 
they  are  as  different  as  heaven  and  hell.  Heaven 
reigns  in  the  breast  of  one ;  hell  lurks,  and  screams, 
and  struggles  in  the  heart  of  the  other. 

"  His  eyes  glare  through  the  window  at  the 
moving  throng.  Their  owner  knows  that  he  will 
soon  stand  there;  that  it  is  now  only  a  question 
of  moments  when  the  man  who  is  now  there  will 
be  lying  stark  and  senseless  upon  his  back,  to  be 
borne  silently  away  into  forgetfulness  and  oblivion. 
Everything  has  been  planned  to  the  most  minute 
detail.  Nothing  is  forgotten  or  neglected.  Clock- 
work could  not  be  more  perfectly  regulated. 

"  The  agreed  upon  hour  approaches.  Some 
one  appears  at  the  door  —  some  one  from  the 
inside.  It  is  an  old  servant  of  the  family  —  a 
man  who  has  passed  his  life  (and  it  has  already 


278    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

been  a  long  one)  in  its  service  —  a  man,  loved 
by  his  master,  and  loved  so  well  that  his  aid 
alone  in  this  monstrous  conspiracy  insures  its 
success. 

"  He  closes  the  door  and  returns  inside,  saying 
nothing.  The  opening  and  closing  of  it  were 
signals,  and  upon  them  the  devil  outside  acts. 

"  A  moment  later,  he  steps  boldly  forward, 
and  concealing  his  face  as  best  he  can,  rings  the 
bell.  It  is  answered,  a  note  is  passed  in,  with 
directions  that  it  be  given  at  once,  and  privately, 
to  the  groom. 

"  The  same  old  servant  receives  it,  and  he 
carries  it  to  the  master  who  loves  him  and  whom 
he  is  supposed  to  love,  and  gives  it  into  his  hands, 
knowing  that  it  is  the  instrument  that  will  con- 
demn him  to  death  —  gives  it  to  him  smiling, 
knowing  that  it  is  a  death  warrant  —  follows 
him  to  the  door,  knowing  that  he  is  looking 
upon  him  for  the  last  time,  and  that  within  the 
hour,  another,  and  a  stranger,  will  enter  to  take 
his  place  —  gives  it  to  him,  and  smiles  and  bows, 
rubs  his  hands  complacently  together,  perhaps 
involuntarily  pats  his  pocket,  or  raises  his  un- 
wavering eyes  to  Lady  Mercy  for  a  glance  of 
approval  of  the  monstrous  thing  that  he  has 
done  —  goes  with  him  to  the  door,  still  smiling, 
still  patting  his  pocket,  his  heart  a  clod  of  coldness 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      279 

and  wickedness  before  which  Satan  himself  might 
blush  with  envy. 

"  He  opens  the  door  for  his  master,  and  the 
happy  groom  steps  out  into  the  darkness.  The 
door  closes,  and  the  earl  is  alone,  blinded  by  the 
obscurity  he  faces. 

"  Somebody  approaches  from  behind,  and  the 
groom  half  turns  to  be  met  by  a  crushing  blow 
before  which  he  sinks  down  silent  and  lifeless. 
Blood  streams  from  the  wound  in  his  head,  but 
he  is  picked  up  and  borne  away  through  the 
gloom,  and  presently  that  lifeless,  inanimate 
thing,  that  only  a  few  short  minutes  before  was 
Lord  John  Hertford,  a  happy  groom,  surrounded 
by  hundreds  of  friends  who  would  have  died  to 
have  saved  him,  is  whirled  away  through  the 
night,  God  alone  knows  whither. 

"  Back  there  on  the  doorstep  stands  a  man, 
waiting.  He  is  calm,  composed,  master  of  himself 
and  of  the  situation.  He  wears  the  same  smile 
that  glowed  upon  his  face  before  this  horrible 
thing  occurred,  only  it  is  more  placid  now.  The 
worst  part  of  the  deed  is  done  —  that  is,  the  most 
difficult  part;  the  remainder  is  comparatively 
easy. 

"  He  waits  until  the  noise  made  by  the  wheels 
dies  away  in  the  distance.  Perhaps  he  lights  a 
match  to  discover  if  there  are  stains  of  blood  upon 


280    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

the  doorstep,  and  seeing  none,  laughs  softly. 
Presently  he  steps  boldly  forward  and  rings  the 
bell,  or  taps  upon  the  door.  It  opens,  and  he 
stands  face  to  face  with  that  same  old  servant  — 
and  they  smile  into  each  other's  eyes  .  .  .  my 
God!"  " 

For  a  moment  Richard  Hertford  paused,  over- 
come by  the  tragedy  of  his  own  thoughts. 

"  Can  this  picture  that  my  mind  paints  be 
true?  "he  asked  himself.  "  It  comes  to  me  like 
an  inspiration.  I  will  pursue  it  to  the  end. 

"  That  old  servant  greets  this  man  as  though 
he  were  his  lord,  returned.  He  chides  him  gently 
because  he  has  been  so  long  absent.  He  leads 
him  away  through  the  corridors  and  rooms,  to 
the  one  which  until  now  was  the  groom's.  There, 
he  turns  up  the  lights  and  regards  him  earnestly, 
studiously,  and  after  satisfying  himself  thoroughly, 
announces  that  the  make-up  is  perfect. 

"  He  mentions  the  mark  of  the  tattooer's  needle, 
and  is  assured  concerning  that,  and  then  an- 
nounces that  the  guests  are  awaiting  the  return 
of  the  earl,  and  suggests  that  they  go  down  at 
once;  but  here  the  courage  of  the  interloper 
falters.  He  dare  not  face  that  throng  of  guests 
and  intimate  friends  of  the  outraged  earl.  It  is 
too  soon.  He  refuses. 

1  Go  down  and  say  that  I  am  ill,'  he  says. 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      281 

'  Tell  them  anything  you  please,  only  get  rid  of 
them  all.  Send  the  bride  to  me  at  once.  All 
has  gone  well  so  far,  but  too  much  effrontery 
may  ruin  everything.' 

"  The  servant  obeys.  The  guests  depart. 
The  countess  joins  him.  The  lights  are  extin- 
guished. The  house  is  silent. 

"Perhaps  the  guilty  pair  depart  that  night; 
perhaps  they  remain  until  another  day.  God 
only  knows,  and  it  does  not  matter.  They  are 
together ;  the  earl  is  out  of  the  way.  The  coronet 
belongs  to  them;  their  plans  have  succeeded. 
And  somewhere,  hurtling  away  through  the  dark- 
ness, is  that  senseless  thing  that  was  once  a  man, 
but  which  now  must  be  a  hopeless  imbecile  — 
a  man  without  a  name,  forgotten  by  the  world, 
and  by  himself;  but  these  two  give  no  thought 
to  him.  His  day  has  passed  —  theirs  has  just 
begun. 

"  They  go  away  together,  alone.  Even  that 
old  servant  is  left  behind.  They  do  not  fear  him. 
If  he  talks,  there  are  asylums  for  the  insane 
where  he  can  be  placed.  If  he  should  tell  the 
awful  story,  it  would  be  madness  talking,  not 
sanity. 

"  They  go  away  alone,  manless  and  maidless, 
the  better  to  prepare  for  the  ordeal  of  their  return ; 
and  that  preparation  is  perfect.  Not  a  thing  is 


282     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

forgotten.  A  year  of  careful  study  provides  for 
every  emergency.  Good  God!  Who  would 
not  become  proficient  under  the  tutelage  of  a 
beautiful  fiend  like  Mercy  Covington. 

"  The  year  passes  —  the  student  graduates. 
The  two  return  as  they  departed,  like  thieves  in 
the  night ;  that  same  old  servant  waits  to  receive 
them. 

"The  night  passes;  morning  dawns;  then, 
that  crime  created  earl  walks  abroad.  He  prefers 
to  face  the  first  ordeal  alone,  and  he  selects  the 
favourite  club  of  his  predecessor,  and  fate,  which 
doubtless  intended  to  kill  him,  involuntarily 
assists  him.  He  is  knocked  down  in  the  street 
by  the  horses  of  the  very  man  he  intended  first 
to  deceive.  He  is  carried  to  the  club  that  he  had 
intended  visiting.  That  same  old  servant  is  sent 
for.  The  ingenuity  of  Satan  wins  again. 

"  This  man  is  carried  to  this  house.  The  partner 
of  his  crimes  hangs  over  him.  His  life  is  despaired 
of,  but  he  does  not  die.  He  was  saved  for  me ! 

'  That  accident  is  a  fruitful  thing.  It  renders 
easy  all  that  might  otherwise  have  been  difficult. 
There  is  nothing  more  to  fear  —  nothing  save  one 
thing,  a  man ;  but  that  man  is  far  away ;  he  has 
not  been  heard  from ;  he  may  be  dead ;  it  is  hoped 
that  he  is  dead ;  that  man  is  Richard  Hertford  — 
myself. 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      283 

"  Almighty  God  watches  over  Richard  Hertford 
and  spares  his  life  through  perils  such  as  no  man 
ever  faced  before  and  lived  to  describe  them. 
Almighty  God  directs  through  the  labyrinth  of 
distance  the  wandering  steps  of  that  poor  for- 
gotten imbecile  that  was  once  the  Earl  of  Ashton 
and  Cowingford,  and  in  a  far  away  corner  of  the 
world  he  encounters  the  one  friend  who  in  all  the 
world  is  the  only  person  left  to  recognize  him. 

"  The  ship  for  England  burns  at  the  wharf. 
The  next  one  taken  is  hopelessly  wrecked.  The 
devil  is  still  on  the  watch,  and  takes  sly  chances 
to  delay  the  return.  These  two  —  one  who  knows 
so  much  and  yet  can  tell  nothing,  and  the  other 
who  could  tell  all  things  and  dare  all  things, 
yet  knows  so  little,  —  are  cast  from  a  trackless  sea 
upon  an  uninviting  coast,  and  are  left  there  to 
perish. 

"  The  stricken  one,  worn  out  by  the  awful 
hardships,  succumbs  to  them  and  dies ;  the  other, 
invigorated  by  the  thought  of  the  information 
that  he  will  take  home  to  the  loved  ones  who  are 
mourning  the  disappearance  of  the  earl,  escapes  — 
is  here. 

"  He  returns  to  find  the  sorrowing  wife;  he 
discovers  a  fiend.  He  returns,  hoping  yet  to  win 
the  woman  he  has  loved;  he  finds  her  a  polluted 
thing,  a  murderess,  a  shame  to  her  sex,  to  the 


284    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

world,  to  all  mankind  —  a  blot  upon  the  face  of 
the  earth.  He  returns  to  find  —  this ! 

"  That  is  the  other  side  of  the  picture;  shall  I 
hesitate  in  the  duty  I  have  to  perform?  No! 
With  God's  help,  no!  Man,  whoever  you  are,  I 
will  not  spare  you!  Woman,  vile  and  loathsome 
as  you  are,  so  shall  the  world  know  you  to  be! 
Children,  innocent  though  you  are,  hideous  crime 
pollutes  your  young  blood,  and  you  shall  not  be 
spared. 

"  I  swear  it!  I  will  crush  you  all,  all.  Sin 
shall  not  triumph  because  I  once  loved  a  woman. 
Justice  shall  obtain!  The  memory  of  Jack  Hert- 
ford shall  triumph!  I  will  bring  back  his  memory 
from  that  far  away  grave,  and  he  shall  stand 
before  you  all,  your  accuser,  your  judge,  your 
destruction.  I  swear  it!  " 

Through  it  all,  Richard  Hertford  did  not  utter 
a  word  that  might  have  been  heard  three  feet 
away.  Through  it  all,  this  strange,  strong  man 
preserved  the  inscrutable  expression  of  his  fea- 
tures. An  observer  would  have  thought  him  un- 
moved by  the  thoughts  within;  and  when,  at 
that  moment,  Robert  reentered  the  room,  he  saw 
nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  in  his  demeanour. 

He  began  an  apology  for  his  absence,  but 
Richard  stopped  him. 

"It  is  no  matter,"  he  said.     "  I  was  glad  to 


TWO  SIDES  TO  A  PICTURE      285 

be  alone  for  a  moment.  When  do  you  go  down 
to  the  Hall?" 

"  To-morrow,  sir." 

"  On  what  train?  " 

"  The  first  one,  sir.    At  6.30  in  the  morning." 

"  I  will  go  with  you." 

"  Ah,  sir.    That  will  be  a  pleasure." 

"  I  will  go  with  you.  I  dare  not  trust  you  alone, 
Robert.  You  love  your  master  and  your  mistress 
so  well,  that  in  spite  of  my  wish  to  surprise  them, 
you  would  reveal  my  presence,  eh?  " 

"  Lady  Mercy  might  discover  that  I  had  a 
secret,  sir.  I  cannot  hide  things  from  her.  She 
reads  me  like  a  book." 

"  So  I  imagine.  I  will  meet  you  at  the  train, 
Robert.  Goodnight." 

"  Must  you  go,  sir?  " 

"  Yes.     Good  night." 

"  Good  night,  sir;  God  bless  you!  " 

"  Hush,  Robert!  Let  the  blessing  of  God 
descend  upon  those  who  deserve  it.  Good 
night." 

He  hurried  out  of  the  house  before  Robert 
could  open  the  door  for  him,  and  left  the  old  man 
standing  in  his  wondering  way,  gazing  after  his 
disappearing  figure;  and  presently  the  faithful 
old  fellow  returned  to  his  room  and  prepared  for 
rest,  little  thinking  of  the  horrible  thing  he  had 


286    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

become  in  the  mind  of  the  man  who  had  just 
left  his  side. 

Richard  Hertford  hurried  back  to  his  club 
and  thence  to  Browne's,  in  Dover  Street,  where 
for  hours  after  he  had  gone  to  his  room  he  rest- 
lessly paced  the  floor,  thinking  and  planning  for 
the  morrow,  and  becoming  with  each  new  plan 
more  and  more  involved  within  the  maze  of  those 
conditions  he  was  called  upon  to  face. 

He  did  not  forget  to  write  a  note  to  Archie 
Quinlan,  telling  of  the  change  in  his  plans  which 
would  render  the  engagement  for  the  morning 
impossible  of  fulfilment.  He  told  him  that  his 
call  upon  Robert  had  decided  him  to  hasten  to 
Hertford  Hall,  and  begged  that  he  would  follow 
him  down  on  the  afternoon  train.  He  did  not 
know  why  he  asked  that,  but  there  was  a  feeling 
that  he  would  like  to  have  someone  near  at  hand 
upon  whom  he  could  depend. 

And  then  he  threw  himself  down  upon  his  bed, 
and  slept. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE   MEETING 

DURING  the  years  that  had  passed  since  that 
secret  and  eventful  marriage  at  which  Dean 
Douglass  officiated,  that  grand  old  man  had 
become  a  firm  and  constant  friend  of  John 
Ashton. 

Whenever  the  duties  of  his  office  would  permit 
of  leisure,  he  passed  it  with  Lord  and  Lady  Hert- 
ford, and  the  affection  that  sprang  up  between 
them  became  a  matter  of  remark  by  all  their 
friends.  The  subject  that  had  been  discussed 
between  the  new  earl  and  the  churchman  just 
before  the  ceremony  was  never  again  alluded  to 
and  the  serious  side  of  it  had  long  been  dismissed 
from  the  dean's  mind. 

On  this  occasion,  the  earl  and  countess  having 
just  returned  from  an  extended  visit  to  Switzer- 
land, a  note  had  been  at  once  despatched  to  the 
dean,  asking  that  he  cast  all  cares  aside  and  join 
them  without  delay  at  Hertford  Hall.  It  so 
happened  that  he  embarked  on  board  the  same 

287 


288    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

train  that  carried  Richard  Hertford  and  Robert 
Smithson  thither.  They  occupied  different  com- 
partments, however,  and  neither  the  dean  nor 
Richard  knew  of  the  presence  of  the  other  until 
the  train  stopped  at  the  station,  where  a  convey- 
ance from  the  Hall  was  waiting  for  the  dean  and  for 
Robert.  Then  they  met  each  other  face  to  face  and 
the  recognition  was  instantaneous  and  mutual. 

"  Richard  Hertford!  "  cried  the  dean. 

"Dean  Douglass!"  exclaimed  Richard.  Then 
they  shook  hands  heartily,  and  together  they 
entered  the  carriage. 

"  Are  you  going  to  the  Hall?  "  inquired  Richard, 
as  soon  as  they  were  seated. 

"  Yes.  I  go  there  every  chance  I  get.  It  is  a 
second  home  to  me  since  John  and  Mercy  were 
married." 

Richard  stared  at  him  speechless. 

"  Another  victim  of  the  deception,"  he  thought. 
"  Truly,  this  man  has  left  nothing  undone  to 
assure  the  success  of  his  plans." 

"  Does  John  know  of  your  home  coming?  " 
asked  the  dean,  presently. 

"  No.     I  am  inflicting  a  surprise  upon  them." 

"  Excellent!  I  am  glad  that  it  is  my  good 
fortune  to  be  present.  We  have  talked  about 
you  every  time  we  have  met,  and  John  has  cabled 
all  over  the  world  for  news  of  you." 


THE  MEETING  289 

"  Indeed.    When  did  he  do  that?  " 

"  Just  before  he  went  to  Switzerland.  I  was 
anxious  to  know  if  he  had  received  any  replies, 
and  lo!  here  you  are,  in  the  same  carriage  with 
me,  and  I  am  literally  taking  you  to  him," 

"  Has  Jack  changed  any  in  all  these  years?  " 

"  Not  a  bit.  Not  a  bit.  He  is  just  the  same  old 
Jack,  and  hardly  a  day  older.  In  fact,  he  seems 
to  have  been  growing  younger  lately.  You  have 
changed  somewhat,  Richard." 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  have  been  through  enough  to 
change  most  men,"  was  the  reply,  and  then  the 
thought:  "  Even  the  dean  cannot  see  any  change 
in  him.  God!  What  an  actor  this  man  must  be." 

"  How  is  Mercy?  Also  unchanged?  "  was  his 
next  query. 

"  Yes;  unless  you  would  call  access  of  beauty 
a  change.  Really,  Richard,  I  regard  her  as  the 
most  beautiful  woman  I  ever  saw  —  and  her  soul 
is  more  perfect  than  her  face." 

Richard  groaned  inwardly,  but  he  uttered  no 
sound.  Presently  he  said: 

"  Robert  tells  me  that  there  are  two  lovely 
children." 

"  Robert  is  correct.  Lovelier  children  never 
lived.  Did  he  tell  you  that  the  boy  is  named 
for  you?  " 

"  Yes." 


290     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  It  is  true;  but  he  is  called  Herndon,  so  that 
the  names  would  not  be  confounded  when  you 
returned." 

"  Ah.    Did  they  then  expect  me  to  return?  " 

"  Most  certainly.  Others  despaired  of  your  life, 
but  they  never  did.  Only  the  last  time  I  talked 
with  John,  he  said  that  he  was  positive  you  would 
return,  alive  and  well;  and  we  have  all  prayed 
that  you  would.  Now,  our  prayers  are  answered. 
What  joy  there  will  be  in  the  household  to-night ! 
How  Mercy  will  cry  out  when  she  sees  you! 
How  John  will  seize  upon  you  and  almost  sob 
with  delight!  I  knew  that  John  loved  you, 
Richard,  but  I  have  seen  him  lately,  actually 
suffering  with  anxiety,  lest  something  had  hap- 
pened to  you;  and  yet  he  has  never  given  up 
hope." 

"  Humph! " 

"  Even  the  children  have  been  taught  to  speak 
of  you.  They  know  your  picture  and  when  asked 
whom  it  represents,  reply  that  it  is  Uncle  Richard. 
What  do  you  think  of  that?  " 

"  I  think  it  is  very  remarkable." 

"  Do  you?  I  don't.  I  think  it  is  very  lovely. 
It  should  be  very  gratifying  to  you." 

"  Dean,"  said  Richard,  after  a  moment  of 
silence,  "  did  you  not  marry  them?  " 

"  Certainly.    I  thought  you  knew  it." 


THE  MEETING  291 

"  I  suppose  I  did.  Were  you  at  the  reception 
that  night?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Did  not  something  happen?  Was  not  Jack 
called  out,  or  was  he  not  ill,  or  something  of  the 
kind?" 

'  Yes,  I  think  he  was,  now  that  you  speak  of 
it.  I  had  forgotten,  though.  Word  came  to  us 
that  he  was  not  well,  and  wished  to  be  excused. 
We  all  took  our  departure  soon  after." 

"  When  did  you  see  him  again?  " 

"  When  he  returned  from  his  wedding  tour  — 
some  while  after  it,  in  fact,  for  I  was  abroad  at 
the  time.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  after  he  was  run 
down  in  Piccadilly  by  Archie  Quinlan.  Have  you 
heard  of  that?  " 

"  Yes;  I  have  been  told  about  it.  His  illness 
was  not  serious,  then?  " 

"  The  accident.    Yes  —  " 

"No;  at  the  time  of  the  reception." 

"  No,  I  have  been  told  that  it  was  nothing  more 
than  a  momentary  indisposition.  Ah,  here  we 
are." 

As  the  carriage  drew  near  to  the  broad  veranda 
—  the  only  modern  thing  about  the  ancient  old 
pile  —  Richard  Hertford  perceived  that  there  were 
five  persons  awaiting  their  approach,  and  one 
quick  glance  revealed  to  him  who  they  were: 


292     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

The  man  whom  he  had  come  there  to  unmask; 
the  woman  whom  he  had  known  in  the  past  as 
Mercy  Covington;  the  boy  who,  by  the  irony  of 
fate,  was  his  own  namesake;  the  little  girl  who 
was  named  for  a  long  ago  sweetheart  of  the  dead 
earl ;  and  the  nurse. 

They  saw  and  recognized  him,  also,  as  soon  as 
the  carriage  came  plainly  into  view. 

Lady  Mercy  released  her  hold  upon  the  hand  of 
her  son,  and  ran  forward  with  a  glad  cry  of  wel- 
come. John  Ashton,  who  recognized  the  stranger 
instantly,  because  of  his  constant  and  careful 
study  of  photographs  of  him,  caught  his  breath, 
hesitated  the  fractional  part  of  a  second,  and 
then  strode  forward  behind  his  wife,  also  wearing 
an  expression  of  genuine  pleasure ;  the  boy  hung 
back  with  drooping  head,  and  the  nurse,  with 
the  baby  in  her  arms,  remained  immovable  and 
placid. 

Paradoxical  as  it  may  seem,  John  Ashton  was 
really  glad  that  Richard  Hertford  had  appeared. 
He  felt  that  the  time  had  come  when  the  ghost 
that  had  haunted  him  for  years  could  be  laid 
for  ever,  in  one  way  or  another,  and  which  ever 
way  that  might  prove  to  be,  he  would  welcome 
its  approach. 

He  had  prepared  for  this  meeting  by  years  of 
study  and  rigorous  schooling.  He  had  fully 


THE  MEETING  293 

decided  what  he  would  do,  and  having  decided, 
nothing  could  shake  him  from  his  purpose.  He 
had  determined  —  irrevocably  determined  —  that 
'he  would  make  a  full  and  complete  confession  to 
Richard  Hertford.  He  had  promised  himself 
and  his  God  that  the  revelation  should  be  made 
at  the  very  first  moment  when  the  opportunity 
occurred;  that  there  should  be  no  delay,  no 
putting  off,  no  procrastination  of  any  sort;  that 
Richard  Hertford  should  hear  the  truth,  the  whole 
truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth  as  soon  as  it 
might  be  possible  to  relate  it  to  him  after  his 
arrival  in  England. 

But  he  had  also  decided  that  his  purpose  should 
remain  a  secret  in  his  own  heart  until  it  was 
expressed  to  the  man  himself,  lest  his  wife  and 
the  good  dean  should  advise  against  it,  as  he 
greatly  feared  they  would  do;  and  in  order  to 
carry  out  his  intention  exactly  as  he  desired,  he 
knew  that  he  must  permit  no  evidence  of  it  to 
appear  in  his  conduct  at  the  moment  of  the  first 
meeting  between  him  and  the  man  whom  he  had 
wronged. 

It  was  because  of  that  decision  that  he  now 
approached  Richard  Hertford  as  if  they  were 
indeed  cousins  —  as  if  he  were  in  fact  the  one 
with  whom  the  returned  wanderer  had  played 
in  childhood 


294     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

It  was  also  the  policy  of  Richard  Hertford  to 
appear  to  be  deceived  at  that  first  meeting.  He, 
too,  had  schooled  himself  for  the  part  he  was  to 
play,  and  his  calm,  strong  face  exhibited  nothing 
but  pleasure  when  he  seized  the  hand  he  would 
have  crushed  to  a  pulp  had  he  followed  the 
inclination  of  his  heart.  As  it  was,  he  shook  it 
with  every  demonstration  of  genuine  pleasure. 

"Jack,  old  fellow!"  he  cried,  with  an  effort 
that  was  as  great  as  any  he  had  ever  made  in  his 
life,  "  everybody  has  told  me  that  you  were 
unchanged.  By  Jove,  they  were  right.  And 
Mercy!  " 

He  turned  and  embraced  her,  and  she  clung 
to  him,  raising  her  face  to  his;  and  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life  she  kissed  him  on  the 
lips. 

He  shuddered  when  he  felt  that  caress.  It 
thrilled  him  to  the  utmost  fibres  of  his  being.  It 
made  him  dizzy,  and  a  wave  of  pallor  swept  over 
him,  like  faintness  —  like  the  near  approach  of 
death. 

"  Perhaps,  after  all,  there  is  some  excuse  for 
this  interloper,"  he  thought  quickly,  as  he  drew 
away  from  her  and  turned  hurriedly  towards 
the  children,  lest  the  others  should  discover  the 
pain  in  his  face,  and  wonder  at  it.  Strangely 
enough,  it  was  of  the  betrayal  of  his  love  he 


THE  MEETING  295 

thought  then,  not  of  his  purpose  in  being  there. 
"  With  her  for  a  temptress,  what  man's  honour 
could  she  not  kiss  into  obscurity?  " 

He  seized  upon  young  Richard  and  raised  him 
in  his  arms. 

"  My  namesake!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  They  told 
me  truly  when  they  said  you  were  like  your 
father,  Richard." 

"  They  tall  me  Herndon,  tause  your  name's 
Richard,  too,"  was  the  calm  reply.  "  You  is 
my  Uncle  Richard,  an'  I  love  'oo,  tause  my  papa 
said  so." 

"  My  God!  "  thought  Hertford.  "  Have  they 
taught  this  innocent  child  to  plead  their  infamous 
cause  with  me?  Shall  I  feel  pity  for  them? 
Heaven  help  me  to  be  firm!  " 

He  put  the  boy  down  and  took  the  baby  from 
the  arms  of  the  nurse;  but  little  Agnes  was 
afraid  of  him  and  showed  it.  Her  red  lips  quivered 
when  she  raised  them  for  him  to  kiss,  and  she 
immediately  extended  her  arms  to  the  nurse,  to 
be  taken  back  again. 

The  welcome  to  the  dean  was  no  less  cordial, 
and  presently  they  all  went  into  the  house,  Ashton 
leading  the  way. 

"  Richard,"  he  said,  when  they  were  in  the 
library,  striving  to  render  the  utterance  of  the 
name  as  natural  and  unaffected  as  it  would  have 


296    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

been  had  the  real  earl  been  there  to  pronounce  it, 
"  not  a  word  yet  about  your  adventures.  We- 
want  to  hear  them  all  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end,  and  there  is  not  time  now.  Robert  will  show 
you  to  your  room,  and  when  you  have  made 
yourself  comfortable,  you  will  find  me  here, 
awaiting  you." 

"  All  right,  Jack.  I  will  make  myself  at  home, 
never  fear,"  replied  Hertford;  and  in  thought  he 
added:  "  Precisely  what  Jack  would  have  said. 
Not  a  tone  of  the  voice,  not  an  expression  of  the 
face,  not  a  mannerism  different  from  what  would 
have  been  his.  I  do  not  wonder  that  the  world 
has  been  deceived.  How  boldly  he  plays  his  part, 
too.  There  is  not  the  slightest  indication  of  fear 
of  me." 

His  heart  hardened  in  that  moment,  more 
than  it  had  done  before.  He  vowed  anew  that 
he  would  not  hesitate  in  his  duty. 

'  You  are  looking  so  well,  Richard,"  said  Mercy 
as  he  turned  to  leave  the  room.  "  One  might 
almost  imagine  that  you  had  not  been  away  at 
all,  now  that  you  are  here  again." 

"  I  might  say  the  same  for  you,  Mercy,  and  for 
Jack,  also,"  he  returned;  "  and  yet,  it  is  over 
seven  years  since  I  left  England.  Tell  me,  are 
you  happy?  " 

"  So  happy,  Richard!    So  happy!  " 


THE  MEETING  297 

"  And  there  is  not  a  cloud  in  your  life  ?  Nothing 
to  regret?  " 

"  Not  one  cloud!  Not  one  regret!  God  has 
truly  blessed  me,  and  now  that  you  are  here,  I 
am  blessed  anew." 

"  Not  one  cloud!  Not  one  regret!  My  God, 
what  does  it  mean?  "  Richard  asked  himself  as 
he  turned  and  left  them. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   CONFESSION 

THE  dean  did  not  need  to  be  shown  to  his 
apartment,  for  he  was  almost  as  much  at  home 
at  the  Hall  as  he  was  in  his  own  house  in  London, 
or  upon  his  estates  in  Scotland.  The  "  Dean's 
Room "  was  religiously  set  apart  for  his  sole 
occupancy,  and  was  never,  even  in  his  absence, 
given  to  another. 

When  he  had  changed"  his  apparel,  he  descended 
the  stairs  and  cautiously  made  his  way  out  of 
the  house.  He  wandered  away  among  the  trees 
to  a  retreat  that  he  often  sought  when  he  wished 
to  be  alone,  for  he  was  not  the  one  to  intrude 
himself  upon  the  reunion  of  these  long  separated 
friends,  and  he  shrewdly  guessed  that  he  would 
not  be  missed  before  it  was  time  for  the  midday 
meal. 

The  retreat  that  he  sought  was  an  old  stone 
house  of  Moorish  design,  one  story  high,  with  a 
flat  roof  upon  which  flourished  a  miniature  flower 
garden  and  grove.  It  was  as  old  as  the  castle 

298 


THE  CONFESSION  299 

itself,  and  was  hidden  away  in  the  woods  on  the 
bank  of  a  rushing  brook,  and  had  long  been  in 
disuse  until  John  Ashton  discovered  it  and  fitted 
up  the  one  room  it  contained. 

To  that  room  he  always  retreated  when  he 
wished  to  be  alone,  and  it  was  kept  locked  against 
all  intruders.  But  outside  there  was  a  flight  of 
stone  steps  which  led  to  the  roof,  and  there  the 
old  dean  kept  a  hammock  concealed,  so  that  when 
he  desired  solitude,  he  could  withdraw  it  from  its 
hiding  place,  and  attach  it  to  the  posts  that  had 
been  set  beneath  the  bower  of  wistaria.  Thus 
concealed  from  the  view  of  everybody,  he  would 
doze,  and  dream,  and  prepare  the  milestones 
for  those  sermons  which  astounded  and  awed 
his  London  audiences. 

Now  he  adjusted  the  hammock,  and  having 
fixed  his  herculean  proportions  comfortably  within 
it  and  drawn  a  warm  rug  over  his  form,  he 
straightway  went  to  sleep. 

Within  the  Hall,  other  things  were  happening. 

Richard  Hertford,  having  made  what  change  he 
desired  in  his  appearance,  descended  to  the 
library,  where  he  found  Ashton  and  the  countess 
awaiting  him. 

They  chatted  together,  upon  indifferent  sub- 
jects for  a  few  moments,  and  then  Mercy,  with  a 
happy  smile  on  her  face,  rose  to  go. 


300    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

44  I  admit  that  I  am  selfish,"  she  said  demurely, 
"  for  I  know  that  you  two  wish  to  be  alone  to- 
gether, and  here  I  have  been  inflicting  myself 
upon  you,  knowing  all  the  while  that  you  both 
heartily  wish  I  would  go.  Let  me  advise  you  to 
take  a  walk  in  the  grounds  while  you  talk  over 
old  times.  The  day  is  beautiful,  and  you  will 
enjoy  it  more  than  sitting  here;  and  John,  one 
moment  before  you  go  out." 

He  followed  her  into  the  hallway,  instantly, 
leaving  Richard  to  suppose  that  it  was  her  inten- 
tion to  warn  this  stranger  again ;  and  could  he  have 
heard  her  question  and  Ashton's  reply,  he  would 
have  been  more  than  ever  confirmed  in  his  belief. 

"  John,"  she  whispered,  placing  her  hands  upon 
his  shoulders,  and  looking  steadily  up  into  his 
face,  with  moist,  pathetic  eyes,  "  do  you  remem- 
ber yet?  " 

"  Yes,  Mercy,"  he  replied,  calmly.  "  I  re- 
member all  that  need  be  said  or  done." 

"  Thank  God!  "  she  murmured. 

Then  he  kissed  her  lips  and  they  separated. 

44  Richard,"  he  said,  reentering  the  library, 
44  do  you  recollect  the  old  rookery,  down  by  the 
brook?  " 

44  Perfectly,  Jack.  It  was  my  favorite  resort 
when  I  was  a  boy;  but  if  I  am  correct,  you  used 
to  avoid  the  place." 


THE  CONFESSION  301 

The  remark  was  quietly  made,  but  there  was  a 
method  in  it,  for  in  reality,  the  place  was  always 
a  favourite  with  the  dead  earl.  Ashton  did  not 
know  that,  but  he  answered  naturally: 

"  I  have  always  liked  it.  I  have  had  it  fitted 
up  and  use  it  as  a  den  to  which  I  retire  in  my 
bearish  moods.  Shall  we  go  there?  " 

"Yes;  I  should  like  it  of  all  things." 

"  Come  then.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to 
you,  and  you  will  have  a  great  deal  to  say  to  me, 
I  think.  There  we  shall  be  undisturbed." 

Richard  might  have  confessed  that  he  was 
surprised  by  this  manner  of  address;  instead,  he 
forced  a  good  imitation  of  a  hearty  laugh,  as  he 
replied : 

"  You  speak  as  though  we  had  mutual  confes- 
sions to  make,  Jack.  I  hope  it  is  nothing  serious," 
and  then  before  Ashton  could  reply,  he  added: 
"  Would  you  not  like  to  have  Mercy  with 
us?" 

"No;  not  now.    Are  you  ready?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  come." 

On  their  way  to  the  rookery,  the  conversation 
was  about  the  house,  the  grounds,  the  gardens, 
the  shrubbery,  the  horses  —  anything  except  the 
subject  upon  which  they  were  both  thinking; 
and  when  Ashton  unlocked  the  door  and  waited 


302     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

for  his  companion  to  enter,  the  latter,  with  a 
light  laugh,  remarked: 

"  By  Jove,  you  have  made  it  comfortable 
here." 

Ashton  did  not  reply.  He  closed  the  door 
behind  him,  but  did  not  lock  it;  still,  the  act 
had  an  unpleasant  effect  upon  Richard,  who  for 
a  moment  wondered  with  surprise  if  the  man 
whose  guest  he  was  had  brought  him  there  to 
murder  him. 

However,  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  disdain- 
fully, and  throwing  himself  into  a  chair,  lighted 
a  cigar,  and  casting  the  match  into  the  fireless 
grate,  said  calmly: 

"It  is  cool  and  fine  here;  just  the  place  for  a 
secret  confab.  I  envy  you  the  possession  of  this, 
Jack,  for  to  tell  the  truth,  I  have  the  devil's 
own  time  escaping  from  humanity." 

"  Is  that  the  reason  why  you  select  the  utter- 
most parts  of  the  earth  for  your  wanderings?  " 
asked  Ashton. 

"  Partly;  not  wholly." 

He  did  not  raise  his  eyes,  and  therefore  he  did 
not  see  the  deathlike  pallor  that  now  whitened 
the  face  of  John  Ashton ;  if  he  had  seen  it  he  would 
have  made  no  comment,  for  he,  too,  felt  an 
oppressiveness  in  the  air,  and  a  presentiment  that 
the  ensuing  half  hour  was  to  bring  forth  strange 


THE  CONFESSION  303 

developments;  but  even  he  had  no  idea  how 
thoroughly  strange  and  startling  they  were 
destined  to  be. 

"  Richard  Hertford,"  began  Ashton  solemnly  - 
so  solemnly  that  his  voice  seemed  altered,  as 
though  it  had  suddenly  become  deeper  and 
stronger,  and  imbued  with  a  ring  of  manhood 
undeniable;  "you  spoke  the  truth  a  moment 
ago,  when  you  suggested  that  I  was  bringing  you 
here  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  suggestion, 
for  that  was  and  is  my  purpose.  Richard  Hert- 
ford, you  are  Lord  Hertford,  the  Earl  of  Ashton 
and  Cowingford  —  not  I!  " 

Ashton  had  expected  that  Richard  would  leap 
to  his  feet  in  astonishment  and  unbelief,  but  in 
this  he  was  deceived,  for  he  did  not  move  a  muscle 
or  alter  the  expression  of  his  face  in  the  slightest 
degree,  as  he  replied,  without  a  tremor  in  his 
voice,  and  without  raising  it  by  so  much  as  half 
a  tone : 

"  I  know  it.    Go  on." 

"  You  know  it! "  exclaimed  Ashton,  for  the 
instant  surprised  out  of  his  calm.  '  You  recog- 
nized the  difference  when  you  first  saw  me?  " 

"No.     I  knew  it  before  I  ever  saw  you.    Go 

on." 

"  In  that  case,  my  lord,  the  task  is  easier  for 
me,"  said  Ashton  slowly,  his  calmness  renewed, 


304     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

and  his  purpose  more  steadfast  than  ever.  "  I 
have  feared  that  you  would  be  as  difficult  to 
convince  as  were  the  others." 

"  What  others?  " 

"  Those  whom  I  have  struggled  to  convince  of 
the  truth.  Mercy,  old  Robert,  Dean  Douglass." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  have  made  the  effort 
to  convince  them  that  you  are  not  Lord  Hert- 
ford? " 

"  Yes." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you." 

Ashton's  face  became  whiter  still.  His  hands 
clutched  the  chair  back,  where  they  rested  upon 
it;  but  he  controlled  himself,  and  murmured, 
as  though  he  had  not  heard  aright : 

"  You  do  not  believe  me?  " 

"  No." 

"  It  does  not  matter.  You  shall  hear  me  to 
the  end.  Afterwards  you  shall  be  convinced  that 
I  have  spoken  the  truth." 

"  I  doubt  it.     Go  on." 

"  I  have,  from  the  very  first,  felt  that  you  would 
not  be  deceived,  and  before  the  fatal  step  was 
taken  which  placed  me  in  the  position  I  now 
occupy,  I  endeavoured  with  my  utmost  effort 
to  get  a  trace  of  you,  so  that  you  might  be  com- 
municated with." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you.    Go  on." 


THE  CONFESSION  305 

Again  Ashton's  lips  tightened,  and  his  face  went 
whiter  still. 

"  Have  you  faith  in  your  own  gentility? "  he 
asked,  coldly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  " 

"  Admitting  that  you  have  no  respect  for  me 
in  my  effort  to  tell  you  the  truth,  you  should 
respect  yourself  sufficiently  not  to  forget  that 
you  are  a  gentleman.  It  is  not  necessary  con- 
stantly to  reiterate  your  unbelief  in  my  state- 
ments." 

"  In  your  presence  I  respect  nothing,  not  even 
myself,"  replied  Hertford  coldly,  "for  I  stoop 
lower  than  I  ever  did  before,  when  I  consent  to 
listen  to  you.  You  are  beneath  contempt;  I 
voluntarily  place  myself  on  the  same  level.  Go 
on." 

Ashton  smiled  bitterly.  He  was  silent  for  a 
moment,  and  then  he  said  slowly: 

"  I  will  not  permit  you  to  anger  me  I  believe 
that  you  are  a  just  man,  if  an  implacable  one. 
In  your  position  I  am  not  sure  that  I  would  not 
be  as  despicable,  for  in  your  present  attitude 
permit  me  to  say  that  you  are  so." 

Richard  Hertford  did  not  manifest  a  sign  that 
he  heard.  His  face  remained  as  calm,  as  cold, 
and  as  hard  as  it  was  at  the  beginning  of  the 
conversation. 


306     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  Go  on,"  he  said;  that  was  all. 

"  Am  I  assured  that  you  will  hear  me  through 
to  the  end,  notwithstanding  your  doubts?  "  asked 
Ashton,  after  another  short  pause. 

"  Yes." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  how  you  knew  that  this 
fraud  existed,  even  before  you  saw  me?  " 

"No;   I  will  tell  you  nothing." 

"So  be  it.  My  story  will  surprise  you,  at 
least.  Fortunately,  the  facts  concerning  it,  or 
at  least  that  part  of  them  which  interests  you, 
are  not  dependent  upon  my  own  word,  but  can 
be  proven  by  witnesses  whose  evidence  you  cannot 
doubt.  I  refer  to  Dean  Douglass,  to  Lady  Mercy, 
and  to  old  Robert." 

"  I  respect  the  dean,  infinitely,  at  the  present 
time;  beware  that  you  do  not  utter  words  that 
will  endanger  that  respect.  As  for  the  others, 
I  have,  at  present,  nothing  to  say." 

John  Ashton  did  start  back  then,  and  his  hands 
clenched  the  chair  back  still  more  tightly. 

"  Do  you  dare  to  refer  to  Lady  Mercy  in  that 
manner?  "  he  whispered,  because  his  agitation 
and  anger  were  too  great  for  him  to  risk  speaking 
aloud. 

"  I  advise  you  to  proceed  with  your  narrative, 
and  not  to  quibble  over  details,"  rejoined  Hert- 
ford, deliberately. 


THE  CONFESSION  307 

Ashton  bowed,  controlled  himself,  and  then 
in  a  low,  even  tone,  began  the  recital  of  the 
story  of  his  life. 

"  I  was  born,"  he  said,  "  in  the  month  of 
February  —  presumably  between  the  eighth  and 
twelfth,"  (mentioning  the  year),  "where,  I  do 
not  know.  When  I  was  about  two  weeks  old,  I 
was  discovered  on  the  doorstep  of  a  mansion 
in  the  city  of  New  York.  The  person  who  dis- 
covered me  was  a  banker  and  a  rich  man,  by 
name,  Henry  Hollister.  He  is  still  living,  or  was 
living  only  a  short  time  ago.  You  see,  therefore, 
that  I  was  a  foundling." 

"It  is  in  keeping  with  your  future  career. 
Go  on." 

"  The  man  who  found  me  gave  me  a  name,  and 
as  that  name  is  coincidental  with  everything 
that  I  have  to  say,  I  will  repeat  it.  I  was  named 
John  Cowingford  Ashton;  by  that  name  I  was 
baptized;  with  that  name  I  grew  to  manhood, 
loved  and  cared  for  as  a  son,  but  made  to  believe 
that  I  was  a  nephew." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  and  then,  as  Richard 
Hertford  made  no  sign  or  comment,  he  proceeded, 
and  detail  after  detail,  related  the  history  of  his 
life  in  New  York  from  childhood  to  manhood. 
He  told  of  the  birth  of  Hope  and  how  they  had 
grown  up  together,  more  like  brother  and  sister 


308     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

than  like  cousins;  he  described  the  beginning  of 
his  career  in  the  bank,  and  everything  connected 
with  that  career,  to  the  moment  when  he  cast 
it  behind  him  for  ever,  on  that  terrible  night  when 
he  believed  that  he  had  been  the  means  of  the 
death  of  Henry  Hollister. 

He  told  of  his  love  for  Hope,  omitting  nothing, 
even  explaining  the  cause  of  their  separation; 
he  described  the  night  of  terror,  when  he  had 
wandered  through  the  city  streets,  believing  that 
he  wore  the  brand  of  Cain  upon  his  brow;  his 
call  at  the  barber  shop ;  his  sudden  determination 
to  leave  the  country  for  ever;  his  preparation, 
his  sailing  away  under  the  name  of  John  Cornell, 
and  why  he  selected  that  name.  He  gave  a 
detailed  description  of  his  wanderings  from  that 
moment,  until  his  meeting  with  Robert,  on  the 
corner  of  St.  James  Street  and  Piccadilly;  and 
through  it  all,  he  spoke  in  the  calm,  even  tone 
that  one  might  have  employed  in  reading  from 
a  book,  a  history  which  did  not  concern,  but  only 
abstractly  interested  the  narrator  and  the  audi- 
ence. 

And  all  the  while  Richard  Hertford  remained 
immovably  fixed  in  his  chair,  never  changing  his 
position,  never  altering  the  expression  of  his  iron 
face,  never  commenting  by  a  single  word  upon 
what  he  heard,  as  inscrutable  as  a  sphinx,  as 


THE  CONFESSION  309 

hard  and  relentless  as  the  obsidian  cliffs  over 
which  he  had  toiled  during  his  wanderings  among 
the  Andes  mountains. 

"  And  now,"  said  Ashton  finally,  "  I  come  to 
the  beginning  of  that  part  of  my  history  which 
directly  concerns  you.  You  discover,  by  the  date 
that  I  have  given,  that  my  encounter  with  Robert 
was  precisely  one  year  after  the  night  I  left  the 
bank,  and  that  also  it  was  precisely  one  year 
after  the  disappearance  of  the  earl,  your  cousin, 
whose  name  I  have  borne  from  that  day  to  this." 

Then,  with  even  more  graphic  intensity  than 
that  with  which  it  has  already  been  portrayed 
upon  these  pages,  he  related  his  conversation 
with  Robert  on  the  street,  his  reasons  for  wel- 
coming the  advent  of  something  to  interest  him 
and  take  him  out  of  himself;  he  described  in  de- 
tail the  interview  and  the  incidents  of  that  night ; 
his  subsequent  consent  to  sleep  in  the  house,  be- 
lieving that  Lady  Mercy  was  absent.  He  told 
of  the  events  of  the  following  morning,  when 
Robert  examined  the  tattooed  figure  on  his 
breast,  and  exhibited  the  letter,  written  when  the 
earl  was  a  boy,  to  prove  that  he  also  was  likewise 
marked. 

He  omitted  nothing  that  happened  at  that  time, 
describing  his  own  indignation  and  determination 
to  leave  the  house  and  the  city  at  once  — told 


310    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

how  he  consented  to  go  to  the  library,  there,  at 
Robert's  dictation,  to  write  a  letter  in  the  very 
words  which  formerly,  on  one  occasion,  had  been 
employed  by  the  earl  —  told  how  subsequently 
he  had  remembered  the  letter  and  had  looked  for 
it,  and  had  not  found  it;  but  that  he  had  for- 
gotten it  until  it  was  too  late  to  be  of  service  — 
and  then,  minutely,  he  described  his  encounter 
with  the  eyes  that  glowed  upon  him  through  the 
holes  cut  in  the  portrait  of  old  Sir  Roderick,  the 
Crusader. 

He  omitted  nothing  of  the  effect  they  had  had 
upon  him,  and  how  he  discovered  that  he  had 
been  gazing  into  the  eyes  of  a  human  being.  He 
told  how  he  had  hurled  the  portrait  across  the 
room,  thus  discovering  the  presence  of  the  count- 
ess, and  almost  word  for  word,  and  incident  for 
incident,  he  related  the  interview  that  followed 
the  discovery. 

His  attempt  to  escape  from  the  house,  and  from 
Lady  Mercy,  he  told  in  detail.  How  she  had 
barred  the  way,  and  how  at  last  he  had  left  her, 
unconscious  on  the  couch,  and  dashed  away, 
only  to  be  run  down  and  nearly  killed  by  the 
horses  of  Lord  Quinlan,  and  that  he  had  recovered 
consciousness  only  to  find  that  he  was  again 
within  the  toils  from  which  he  had  so  vainly  tried 
to  escape,  with  Lady  Mercy  watching  over  him, 


THE  CONFESSION  311 

and  with  the  whole  world  of  London  apprised  of 
the  intelligence  that  Lord  John  Hertford  was  at 
home,  injured,  and  likely  to  die. 

And  then  he  went  through  all  that  he  suffered 
in  mind  at  the  time  of  his  convalescence.  He 
spoke  of  the  call  that  Lord  Quinlan  made  upon 
him;  told  how  he  had  instructed  Robert  to  make 
another  effort  to  ascertain  the  address  of  Richard 
Hertford,  and  described  that  long  session  of 
reasoning  with  himself,  at  the  end  of  which  he  had 
finally  determined  to  assume  the  position  that 
seemed  by  fate  to  be  forced  upon  him, ,  and  to 
consent  to  become  what  he  was  not,  provided  the 
dean  should  also  insist  upon  his  doing  so  after 
he  had  heard  the  story  —  the  real  story  of  his 
life. 

There,  he  paused  for  a  moment,  and  for  the 
first  time  during  more  than  an  hour,  Richard 
Hertford  spoke. 

"  It  is  a  clever  tale,  well  concocted,"  he  said, 
"  and  even  if  I  believed  it,  you  are  not  less  a 
scoundrel,  for  you  consented  to  consider  the  wife 
of  Lord  Hertford  as  your  own.  But  I  will  listen 
to  the  end.  I  promised  myself  that.  If  there  is 
more  to  tell,  go  on." 

"You  mistake,"  returned  Ashton,  quietly, 
replying  to  the  hideous  accusation  unmoved, 
knowing  how  false  it  was.  "  Lady  Mercy  and  I 


312    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

were  married  by  Dean  Douglass,  in  the  library, 
where  I  first  saw  her." 

"  Indeed.  The  time  of  that  marriage  —  if  it 
really  occurred  —  may  be  vital.  Lord  John 
Hertford  was,  I  believe,  alive  when  it  took  place. 
He  was  with  me;  he  died  in  my  arms;  I  buried 
him  myself.  You  know  now  how  I  recognized 
in  you  the  scoundrel  that  you  are.  You  know  now 
why  I  have  no  pity  for  you,  and  later,  you  will 
know  why  I  do  not  believe  the  story  you  have 
told,  and  will  not  believe  what  there  is  yet  to 
tell." 

41  My  God!  "  muttered  John  Ashton,  hoarsely; 
and  he  bowed  his  head  in  agony  upon  his  breast. 
"  When  did  Lord  Hertford  die?  "  he  asked,  in  a 
broken  voice. 

"  Lord  Hertford  lives.     I  am  Lord  Hertford." 

"  True.  What  was  the  date  of  the  death  of 
Lord  John? " 

"  I  will  tell  you  that  in  my  own  good  time,  Mr. 
Ashton." 

"  My  God,  how  cruel  you  are!  " 

"  You  have  not  completed  your  tale.    Go  on." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

A   STIRRING   OP   DEEP   PASSIONS 

'THERE  is  not  much  more  to  tell,"  resumed 
John  Ashton.  "The  dean  came  at  my  solici- 
tation, but  he  would  not  permit  me  to  relate  the 
story  as  I  have  told  it  to  you.  Mercy  had  told 
him  enough,  he  said.  He  spoke  words  to  me  that 
I  will  never  forget ;  I  could  repeat  them  now,  but 
they  would  not  avail  with  you.  He  performed 
the  ceremony  in  the  library  four  years  ago  the 
twenty-ninth  day  of  last  month  —  August.  Will 
you  tell  me  now  the  date  of  Lord  John's  death?  " 

"  If  you  will  tell  me  first  at  what  hour  of  the 
day  your  remarkable  wedding  took  place." 

"  At  half -past  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon." 

Richard  Hertford,  for  the  first  time  since  the 
interview  began,  altered  the  expression  of  his 
face.  He  smiled  grimly  as  he  said  with  low 
toned  emphasis: 

"  Lord  John  Hertford  passed  away  in  my  arms 
about  two  hours  before  sunset  on  the  twenty- 
ninth  day  of  August,  four  years  ago;  that  is  to 

313 


314     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

say,  he  died  about  half-past  three  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  of  the  day  that  you  were  married. 
Your  children  are  nobodies;  you  are  a  criminal. 
Listen  to  me,  now,  for  I  have  something  to  say." 

He  paused,  and  for  a  moment  seemed  to 
gloat  upon  the  fearful  agony  suffered  by  his  com- 
panion, for  John  Ashton  stood  staring  at  him, 
stupefied  by  the  statement  he  had  heard.  It  had 
benumbed  his  brain,  already  tried  almost  beyond 
endurance,  and  he  did  not  fully  comprehend  it, 
even  yet;  and  then  Richard  Hertford  went  on 
pitilessly : 

"  I  believe  part  of  your  story,"  he  said,  "  but 
I  don't  believe  all  of  it.  That  part  of  it  which 
deals  with  your  imposition  on  the  old  dean,  I 
credit.  That  part  of  it  which  refers  to  your  im- 
position upon  my  cousin's  friends,  I  credit. 
That  part  of  it  which  relates  to  your  appearance 
upon  the  streets  of  London  at  the  time  of  the 
accident,  I  credit,  and  I  also  believe  that  the 
accident  was  an  intervention  of  the  devil  to 
enable  you  the  better  to  carry  out  your  infamous 
schemes.  That  part  of  it  which  happened  after 
that  time,  so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  world  in 
general,  and  not  to  Robert,  or  to  —  to  her  you 
call  your  wife  —  I  credit,  but  I  believe  that 
everything  else  you  have  uttered  here  to-day  is 
a  lie." 


A  STIRRING  OF  DEEP  PASSIONS   315 

Ashton  only  shuddered.     Hertford  continued. 

"  I  believe  that  you  knew  Mercy  Covington 
before  she  became  Mercy  Hertford.  I  believe 
that  you  were  a  pauper,  an  ex-convict,  or  some- 
thing worse.  I  believe  that  you  somehow  won 
the  love  of  Mercy  Covington,  who  was  already 
engaged  to  marry  my  cousin.  I  believe  that  you 
two,  together,  plotted  and  planned  this  hideous 
thing  from  its  inception,  and  that  your  unac- 
countable resemblance  to  the  earl,  the  likeness 
of  your  habits  and  characteristics,  and  the  known 
talent  of  some  obscure  tattooer,  was  its  incentive. 
I  believe  that  Robert  Smithson  was  your  ac- 
complice and  hers.  I  believe  that  on  the  night 
of  the  wedding  reception,  when  John  Hertford 
disappeared,  you  waited  outside,  with  other 
accomplices,  and  having  enticed  the  bridegroom 
to  your  side,  that  you,  or  somebody  in  your 
employ  —  perhaps  the  very  man  who  tattooed 
the  heart  upon  your  breast  —  struck  him  a 
murderous  blow  on  his  head  with  an  iron  hook, 
and  that  afterwards  he  somehow  escaped  you, 
and  wandered  away,  an  imbecile  —  for  that  is 
what  he  was  when  I  discovered  him." 

Still  Ashton  said  nothing,  and  Hertford  rose 
from  his  chair  and  stood  before  him,  with  up- 
raised hand,  menacing  in  his  attitude,  grand  in 
his  rage,  sublime  in  the  self-control  that  he  exerted. 


316    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  I  believe,"  he  continued,  mercilessly,  "  that 
you  entered  that  house  after  its  true  owner  had 
been  borne  away  senseless,  and  that  Robert 
Smithson  met  you  at  the  door,  and  conducted 
you  to  an  isolated  room,  there  to  recover  yourself. 
I  believe  that  your  courage  failed  you  there  and 
that  you  sent  down  word  that  you  were  ill  and 
begged  to  be  excused,  so  that  the  guests  would 
depart  sooner,  and  your  partner  in  crime  could 
go  to  you.  I  believe  that  you,  accompanied  by 
her,  went  away  that  night,  through  the  darkness, 
taking  no  man  or  maid,  and  that  you  spent  a 
year  in  the  careful  study  of  the  parts  you  were  to 
play,  and  in  the  manufacture  and  preparation  of 
this  story  you  have  told.  I  believe  that  with 
hellish  ingenuity,  assisted  by  a  wicked  woman, 
you  foresaw  everything  and  arranged  for  every- 
thing—  and  even  the  accident  may  have  been 
included  in  that  plot,  although  it  might  have 
proved  more  serious  than  you  had  planned.  It 
certainly  happened  opportunely  and  in  the  right 
place  for  your  purposes.  I  believe  that  you  fore- 
saw the  event  of  my  return,  and  prepared  for  it 
with  the  same  skill,  fearing  to  wait  for  me  to 
accuse  you,  lest  I  should  have  concealed  witnesses 
when  I  did  so  —  as  I  should  have  done  had  you 
not  forestalled  me.  I  believe  —  " 

John  Ashton  raised  his  head  slowly  until  his 


A  STIRRING  OF  DEEP  PASSIONS   317 

eyes  met  those  of  the  man  before  him,  and  they 
burned  so  fiercely  that  for  an  instant  Richard 
Hertford  hesitated;  but  only  for  an  instant,  for 
he  again  began  the  sentence: 

"  I  believe  that  this  woman,  this  hideous 
woman,  was  your  —  " 

"  Stop,  Richard  Hertford,  or  I  will  kill  you 
where  you  stand!"  breathed  Ashton,  bending 
forward  and  glaring  upon  this  relentless  man. 
"  Accuse  me  of  what  you  will,  but  spare  her,  if 
you  wish  to  live!  " 

"  Bah!  Can  a  worm  grapple  with  a  python? 
Don't  talk  to  me  of  killing,  lest  your  own  carcass 
provide  the  corpse.  I  do  not  fear  you.  You  have 
every  reason  to  fear  me;  and  your  words  are 
suggestive.  They  make  me  wonder  why  I  do 
not  kill  you.  I  repeat:  I  believe  that  Mercy 
Covington,  your  —  " 

His  words  ended  in  a  gasp,  for  the  fingers  of 
John  Ashton  were  at  his  throat,  choking  off 
further  utterance.  His  own  flew  up  and  seized 
upon  his  assailant.  Neither  man  spoke.  It  was 
giant  against  giant;  fury  against  fury;  outraged 
despair  against  righteous  rage. 

For  a  moment  only  they  were  locked  together, 
swaying  where  they  stood,  with  furious  eyes,  with 
clenched  teeth,  distended  nostrils,  breathless; 
then  Richard  Hertford  was  lifted  from  his  feet 


318    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

and  hurled,  as  though  he  were  a  child  of  puny 
strength,  crashing  against  the  wall,  and  John 
Ashton,  instantly  recovering  from  his  rage, 
stood  where  they  had  struggled,  waiting  for  him 
to  rise. 

Then,  before  he  could  speak,  and  ere  the  fallen 
man  sought  to  rise,  the  door  was  flung  ajar,  and 
in  the  opening,  with  hands  raised,  and  his  grand 
old  head  towering  over  them,  stood  the  magnif- 
icent form  and  awe  inspiring  presence  of  Dean 
Douglass. 

"  Peace!  "  he  said,  solemnly.  "  Peace!  God 
has  sent  me  here!  " 

Ashton  bowed  his  head  in  shame;  Hertford 
rose  slowly  to  his  feet,  and  waited  silently,  so 
that  they  made  the  strange  spectacle  of  two 
antagonists  with  murder  in  their  hearts  a  moment 
since,  standing  side  by  side,  humiliated  by  the 
presence  of  a  superior  being. 

"  Peace!  "  repeated  the  dean,  drawing  nearer 
to  them,  still  with  upraised  hands,  while  his 
eyes  flashed  from  one  to  the  other,  conquering 
them  where  they  stood.  "  Would  ye  do  murder 
here?  Think  ye  one  would  benefit  if  the  other 
expired?  John,  would  you  resent  a  false  imputa- 
tion against  the  fair  name  of  your  wife  —  false 
in  the  sight  of  God  —  by  loading  her  with  the 
greater  shame  that  would  have  been  enacted 


A  STIRRING  OF  DEEP  PASSIONS   319 

here?  Richard,  where  is  your  manhood,  that 
you  impugn  the  chastity  and  virtue  of  the 
woman  you  have  always  loved?  Are  ye  mad- 
men, both?  Shame!  Shame!  Shame  upon  ye 
both!" 

Awed,  they  remained  silent,  and  presently  the 
dean  spoke  on. 

"  John,  Richard,  listen  to  me;  I  address  you 
both.  The  hand  of  God  has  been  in  this  wonder- 
ful affair  from  the  start.  By  His  infinite  goodness, 
He  long  ago  made  all  that  concerns  you  now 
plain  to  me.  In  His  wisdom,  He  sent  me  here 
this  day,  installing  me  where  I  could  hear  all  that 
has  passed  between  you,  for  not  a  word  that  has 
been  uttered  in  this  room  has  escaped  me.  It  is 
in  my  power,  through  His  blessed  goodness,  to 
set  your  doubts  at  rest  —  to  place  you  both  where 
you  belong  —  to  do  justice  to  every  desire  that 
burns,  at  this  moment,  in  the  heart  of  each.  I 
will  fulfil  the  mission  that  He  has  given  me  to 
perform.  But  there  is  another  that  must  be  un- 
derstood first.  Richard,  tell  me  in  what  part  of 
the  world  was  it  where  you  say  John  Hertford 
died?  " 

"  In  Borneo." 

"  Borneo!  On  the  twenty-ninth  day  of  August, 
four  years  ago,  said  you?  " 

"Yes." 


320     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  At  a  time  which  you  say  was  two  hours  be- 
fore sunset?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  At  what  hour  is  sunset,  there,  on  that  date?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  It  is  rather  early,  for  the  sun 
is  in  the  northern  heavens." 

"  True.  It  sets  then  not  later  than  five  o'clock. 
What  time,  then,  think  you,  is  it  here?  " 

Ashton  gasped  aloud.  Hertford  gazed  upon 
the  dean,  astounded. 

"It  is  between  seven  and  eight  hours  earlier 
in  the  same  day,  so  that,  if  the  death  of  Lord 
John  had  occurred  as  late  as  sunset,  there  would 
still  have  been  some  minutes  to  spare,"  continued 
the  churchman,  replying  to  his  own  question, 
"  and,  therefore,  if  he  died  between  three  and 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  ceremony  that 
I  performed  between  this  man  here  and  Lady 
Mercy  Hertford  took  place  five  hours  at  least 
after  the  death  of  Lord  John.  Do  you  not  both 
see  the  hand  of  God  in  this?  " 

Neither  of  the  men  replied.  Both  stood  awed 
by  the  sudden  revelation,  so  simply  told;  and 
both  realized  its  unmistakable  truth. 

"  Richard,"  continued  the  dean,  "  do  you 
remember  —  can  you  recall  the  birthday  of  your 
cousin  John  who  lies  dead  in  Borneo?  You  were 
ten  years  old  then." 


A  STIRRING  OF  DEEP  PASSIONS   321 

1  Yes,  sir,  I  remember  it.    I  was  here  at   the 
Hall." 

'  True.    Do   you   remember  that  I  was  here 
also?  " 

'  Yes ;  I  recall  it  now  that  you  mention  it." 

"  Do  you  recall  aught  else  concerning  that  day, 
Richard? " 

"  I  remember  that  my  uncle,  the  earl,  was 
absent  —  in  London,  I  think  —  and  that  he  was 
sent  for,  and  came  several  hours  after  John  was 
born.  He  was  accompanied  by  Robert." 

"  Precisely.    Aught  else?  " 

Richard  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 

"  Think!  "  commanded  the  dean.  "  Was 
there  undue  excitement  about  anything?  Do 
you  recall  a  commotion  of  any  sort?  Cannot  you 
recall  that  I  took  you  for  a  long  walk  that  day, 
so  long  that  you  complained  many  times,  and 
wondered  why  I  kept  you  with  me?  And  do  you 
not  remember  that  I  went  out  again  in  the  eve- 
ning, carrying  a  lantern,  and  arrayed  in  a  rubber 
coat,  because  rain  was  falling?  Tired  as  you  were, 
you  wished  to  go  with  me,  and  cried  because  you 
could  not.  Do  you  remember  that?  " 

"  Yes,  sir.    I  do  remember  it  now." 

"  You  never  knew  why  I  kept  you  with  me  all 
that  day?  " 

"  No." 


322     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

"  It  was  because  your  listening  ears  were 
everywhere,  and  I  feared  lest  you  should  hear  that 
which  it  was  desirable  to  keep  from  you.  You 
had  haunted  that  region  of  the  house  where  your 
cousin  was  born,  every  chance  you  could  get.  It 
was  there  where  the  secret  that  it  was  desirable 
to  keep  from  you  was  located.  That  secret  you 
shall  now  hear.  It  is  a  story  that  has  often,  alas, 
been  repeated  in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  in 
the  experiences  of  those  who  make  enemies  of  men 
and  women.  I  will  not  trepass  upon  your  unbelief, 
Richard,  for  I  have  proof  of  all  that  I  shall  say." 

"  Do  not,  sir,  do  me  the  injustice  to  think  that 
I  will  doubt  you,"  said  Richard,  calmly. 

"  I  will  not.  You  loved  me  when  you  were  a 
boy.  I  believe  that  you  love  me  now.  At  least, 
you  know  that  I  am  not  one  to  deceive  you." 

"  I  do,  sir." 

"  Then  listen  to  what  I  have  to  tell  you." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   KEY   TO   THE   MYSTERY 

1  YOUR  uncle  and  I  were  friends  from  child- 
hood," began  the  dean.  "  We  were  classmates. 
Our  friendship  became  stronger  with  advancing 
years.  I  was  frequently  a  guest  at  this  place, 
and  it  so  happened  that  I  was  here  at  the  time 
of  the  accouchement  of  Lady  Hertford,  which 
event  took  place  ten  or  twelve  days  before  it  was 
anticipated.  You  were  here,  also,  and  much  of 
the  time  with  me." 

"  I  remember  it,  sir." 

"  The  physician  who  had  been  engaged  to 
attend  the  countess  had  not  arrived;  a  local 
physician,  now  dead,  was  called.  It  was  because 
of  his  infamy,  since  in  part  atoned  for,  and  I 
hope,  forgiven,  that  the  necessity  of  this  moment 
arises.  Lady  Hertford  gave  birth  to  two  children 
at  that  time,  and  one  of  those  two,  the  elder, 
stands  there,  known  to  you  as  John  Ashton,  but 
known  to  me  as  Lord  Hertford,  the  Earl  of 

Ashton  and  Cowingford." 

323 


324     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

The  two  men  who  listened  stood  gazing  blankly 
before  them,  appalled.  Neither  spoke. 

"  Now,"  continued  the  dean,  "  be  seated.  I 
will  tell  you  how  I  know  this  to  be  true."  He 
waited  until  they  were  seated,  and  then,  having 
also  drawn  up  a  chair  so  that  it  faced  them,  began 
again. 

"  The  doctor,  who  was  the  direct  cause  of  the 
events  that  followed,  hated  your  uncle,  the  earl, 
and  if  I  could  admit  that  hate  in  any  form  were 
just,  he  had  sufficient  cause  to  cherish  it  in  his 
heart.  I  will  not  tell  you  what  that  cause  was; 
all  of  the  persons  concerned  have  gone  before  a 
higher  tribunal,  and  we  have  no  right  to  review 
their  sins.  But  this  man  hated.  He  had  sworn 
revenge  —  a  pitiful  word,  but,  in  this  case,  a 
terrible  one;  but  years  came  and  went  and  he 
did  nothing. 

"Your  uncle  —  your  father,  John  —  having 
made  all  the  restitution  and  atonement  he  could 
for  the  wrong  he  had  done,  believed  at  last  that 
he  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  man  who  had 
sworn  vengeance  against  him;  but  as  events 
proved,  that  man  only  awaited  opportunity; 
and  at  last  it  came,  in  the  absence  of  the  London 
physician  —  in  the  necessity  for  his  presence  at 
the  bedside  of  the  suffering  countess;  and  it  was 
I  who  summoned  him. 


THE  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY    325 

!<  Immediately  upon  his  arrival  he  sent  for  a 
nurse  of  his  own  selection,  and  expelled  from  the 
room  the  one  who  was  in  regular  attendance,  so 
that  behind  closed  and  locked  doors  those  two 
were  the  only  persons  present  when  the  children 
were  born.  I  was  here  in  this  room  awaiting 
news  from  the  house;  my  friend,  the  father,  was 
in  London,  and  with  him  was  Robert  Smithson, 
who,  had  he  been  present,  would  have  informed 
me  at  once  of  the  strange  proceeding.  The  ex- 
pelled nurse  did  endeavour  to  do  so,  but  I  could 
not  be  found.  The  mother  —  your  mother, 
John  —  was  stupefied  with  chloroform,  and  never 
knew,  thank  God,  that  she  gave  birth  to  two  boys 
instead  of  one. 

"  An  hour  or  more  before  the  arrival  of  the 
earl,  while  I  was  still  sitting  here,  I  heard  my  name 
pronounced,  and  discovered  the  physician  stand- 
ing in  the  open  door. 

"  '  I  have  come  to  tell  you  the  news,'  he  said, 
with  a  smile  that  I  did  not  like.  '  The  countess 
has  given  birth  to  a  son,  both  are  doing  well, 
and  I  will  not  be  needed  again  before  the  arrival 
of  the  regular  physician.  Good  day,  sir,  and  be  so 
kind  as  to  inform  the  earl  that  I  shall  make  no 
charge  for  my  services.  Our  accounts  are  square 
at  last.' 

"  He  turned  then  and  left  me,  and  I  hastened 


326     A  GENTLEMAN   OF  QUALITY 

to  the  house,  disturbed  by  what  he  had  said.  I 
found  in  the  room  adjoining  the  chamber  where 
the  mother  and  her  babe  lay,  intense  excitement, 
wild  commotion,  general  upheaval.  The  nurse 
who  had  been  summoned  by  the  doctor  was 
writhing  in  agony  upon  the  floor,  servants  and 
others  were  working  over  her,  and  she  gave  every 
evidence  of  having  been  poisoned. 

"  I  took  charge  of  things  at  once.  I  was  the 
only  person  present  who  was  capable  of  doing 
so.  I  sent  the  regular  nurse  to  the  countess  at 
once,  sent  all  but  one  of  the  other  servants  out 
of  the  room,  and  that  one  the  housekeeper,  who 
had  been  in  the  service  of  the  family  a  long  time, 
and  together  we  worked  over  the  stricken  woman. 

"  I  will  not  worry  you  with  details.  She 
partially  recovered,  and  in  doing  so,  she  raved 
about  the  theft  of  a  child.  She  accused  the 
doctor  of  stealing  a  child  —  of  poisoning  her.  But 
the  baby  was  safe  with  its  mother,  and  her 
mutterings  were  regarded  as  the  fruit  of  an  im- 
agination overwrought  by  pain,  and  perhaps  by  a 
threat  made  by  the  doctor,  and  which  he  had  not 
dared  to  carry  out. 

"  Later  in  the  day  we  knew  that  she  had  spoken 
the  truth  in  her  delirium,  for  a  letter  came  to  the 
earl  from  the  physician  revealing  to  him  the  awful 
truth. 


THE  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY    327 

"I  will  not  repeat  all  of  the  letter  now, 
though  I  have  it  in  my  possession;  but  it 
told  how  he  had  always  intended  to  steal  the 
first  born  of  Lady  Hertford;  gloated  upon  the 
fact  that  fate  had  played  into  his  hands  in 
summoning  him  in  attendance  upon  her  now; 
how,  now  that  there  were  two,  he  had  taken 
the  elder,  foreseeing  a  more  sinful  revenge 
in  the  opportunity  to  rear  it  in  sin  and  in- 
famy in  order  that  it  might  one  day  be  in- 
duced to  contest  the  title  and  estates  with  the 
other. 

'  I  have  marked  them  both  for  identification,' 
he  wrote.  '  You  will  find  the  mark  upon  the  left 
breast  of  the  child  you  retain  with  the  figure  2, 
very  small  and  faint  beneath  it.  The  mark  on 
the  child  I  have  stolen  is  the  same,  except  that 
the  figure  i,  likewise  small  and  faint,  is  beneath 
it.  My  revenge  shall  extend  to  your  sons  and  to 
your  sons'  sons.' 

"  Bare  your  breast,  John  Hertford,  and  let  us 
see  if  the  figure  i  is  there." 

"It  is  there,  sir,"  replied  the  bewildered  earl, 
tearing  away  his  coat  and  waistcoat,  and  pres- 
ently exposing  to  their  view  the  tattooed  heart 
with  the  figure  i  beneath  it. 

"  I  knew  that  it  must  be  there,"  rejoined  the 
dean,  "for  I  have  other  proof  that  you  are  the 


328    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

first  born,  or  rather,  the  stolen  child  of  your 
mother.  I  will  return  to  that  day. 

"  Nothing  was  left  undone  to  capture  the 
doctor.  Scotland  Yard  was  employed,  and  com- 
pelled, through  the  influence  of  the  earl,  to 
secrecy;  but  the  records  of  the  case  are  there, 
and  may  be  reviewed.  However,  not  a  trace  of 
the  doctor  could  be  discovered.  He  had  disap- 
peared utterly,  having  long  planned  for  that 
moment. 

"  The  servants  still  talked  of  the  ravings  of 
the  nurse,  and  I  kept  you,  Richard,  away  from 
the  house  in  order  that  you  might  not  hear  them, 
for  the  life  of  the  countess  depended  upon  her 
ignorance  of  the  awful  truth.  The  poisoned 
nurse,  to  whom  some  unknown  drug  —  after- 
wards supposed  to  be  the  juice  of  the  loco  weed  — 
had  been  administered,  was  removed,  became 
insane,  and  ultimately  died  without  having  re- 
covered her  reason.  The  search  for  the  doctor 
was  continued  through  years,  and  at  last  aban- 
doned, the  few  who  knew  of  the  circumstances 
believing  that  both  he  and  the  child  were  dead. 
From  the  outside  world  the  secret  was  religiously 
kept. 

"  Now,  one  thing  more.  When  you  sent  for 
me,  John,  before  your  marriage  to  the  countess, 
and  would  have  told  me  the  story  that  you  have 


THE  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY    329 

related  to  Richard  to-day,  I  would  not  hear  it. 
I  told  you  that  Mercy  had  related  the  circum- 
stances to  me.  She  had  done  so,  but  she  had  not 
told  all  of  them,  believing,  no  doubt,  that  you 
would  tell  me  everything,  and  that  I  would 
listen. 

"  She  told  me  that  while  you  were  abroad  some 
accident  had  happened,  and  that  your  memory 
had  become  impaired,  your  imaginations  and 
hallucinations  rampant.  She  did  not  tell  me  that 
you  were  not  with  her  at  that  time,  and  I  always 
supposed  that  you  really  started  away  together, 
for  I  never  for  a  moment  doubted  that  you  were 
the  same  man  to  whom  I  had  married  her  pre- 
viously. She  did  tell  me  much  of  the  story  that 
she  knew  you  believed  to  be  true,  but  not  that 
part  of  it  which  concerns  your  childhood  and 
youth. 

"  So  I  never  doubted  that  you  were  the  John 
Hertford  that  I  had  known  — until  something 
more  than  six  months  ago,  when  I  saw  and  recog- 
nized the  man  who  stole  you  away  —  met  him 
on  the  street  in  London  —  followed  him  to  his 
home,  and  ultimately,  before  he  died,  which  was 
some  weeks  after  I  discovered  him,  listened  to  his 
confession.  From  him  I  have  every  additional 

proof. 

"  He  took  you  to  New  York,  having  succeeded 


330     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

in  catching  a  steamer  which  Scotland  Yard 
deemed  it  impossible  for  him  to  embark  upon  in 
the  time  that  was  granted  him.  On  the  voyage  he 
tired  of  you  and  decided  that  your  loss  to  your 
parents  was  sufficient  revenge.  In  New  York  he 
abandoned  you,  as  he  afterwards  learned,  on  the 
steps  of  a  house  where  a  man  named  Henry 
Hollister  resided.  Then  for  the  second  time,  that 
name  impressed  me  as  being  familiar,  and  at  last 
I  remembered,  and  by  searching  old  records 
proved,  that  an  American  by  that  name  had  been 
a  classmate  of  your  father's  and  mine  at  Oxford. 

"  This  doctor  lived  in  New  York  in  misery;  he 
watched  you  grow  up  in  luxury,  and  he  described 
to  me  in  detail  your  career  and  your  subsequent 
disappearance  at  the  very  time  when  he  had  come 
to  the  determination  to  go  to  you  and  tell  you 
who  you  were,  and  if  possible  induce  you  to  claim 
your  heritage. 

"  I  knew  then  that  the  John  Hertford  I  had 
known  was  not  here;  I  knew  then  that  you 
reigned  in  his  place,  not  alone  in  title  and  estate, 
but  in  the  heart  of  the  countess.  I  saw  in  it  the 
hand  of  God  working  out  immutable  law;  I 
bowed  my  head  in  prayer,  praised  God  in  thank- 
fulness —  and  kept  silent.  The  John  Hertford 
that  I  had  known  had  been  absent  many  years; 
in  my  mind  there  was  no  doubt  of  his  death; 


THE   KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY    331 

children  clambered  around  you  and  yours;  God 
had  directed  it  all;  could  I  improve  upon  his 
design?  I  have  told  my  story." 

Richard  Hertford  strode  across  the  room  to  his 
cousin's  side. 

"John,"  he  said,  extending  his  hand,  "will 
you  forgive  me?  " 

"  Hush,     Richard,"    was    the    instant    reply. 
1  You  but  did  your  duty,  nobly,  grandly,  firmly. 
Let  us  try  to  forget  all  that  has  occurred  in  this 
room." 

Richard  now  turned  towards  the  door. 

"Stop,  Richard,"  called  John.  "Where  are 
you  going?  " 

"  Back  again  to  the  wilderness.  It  is  the  only 
place  for  me." 

"  What!  Am  I  not  also  forgiven? " 

"  Forgiven?  Yes;  if  there  is  aught  to  forgive; 
but  I  cannot  remain.  I  must  go." 

"  You  must  not  go.  You  must  remain,"  in- 
terposed the  dean.  "It  is  not  meet  that  Mercy 
should  know  the  secret  that  is  ours.  How,  then, 
will  your  sudden  absence  be  explained,  Richard 
Hertford?  Let  your  forgiveness  of  others  extend 
to  yourself  and  remain.  God  requires  it  as  your 
atonement  to  Mercy,  as  your  duty  to  those  you 
love." 

"  So  be  it.    I  will  remain." 


332     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

He  stood  silent  a  moment,  and  then  raising  his 
head,  with  a  smile  upon  his  strong,  sad  face,  he 
turned  again  to  John  and  said: 

"  Jack,  will  you  help  me  to  forget  —  some 
things  that  I  have  said?  " 

Then  the  two  men  clasped  hands  again  silently. 
Only  their  earnest  eyes  expressed  that  which 
clamoured  for  utterance  in  the  heart  of  each. 

A  few  moments  later,  after  John  had  readjusted 
his  collar  and  resumed  his  coat,  they  went  out 
from  the  rookery  together,  and  the  door  was 
closed  and  locked  behind  them,  upon  a  room 
that  was  to  be  henceforth  doubly  sacred  to  them 
all. 

Half  way  up  the  path  towards  the  house  they 
saw,  coming  towards  them,  a  group  which  sent 
a  sudden  thrill  through  their  hearts. 

Lady  Mercy  was  approaching  them.  In  her 
arms  she  bore  little  Agnes.  Beside  her  walked 
Lord  Archie  Quinlan,  and  trudging  along  by  his 
side,  clinging  to  two  fingers  of  his  left  hand,  was 
the  sturdy  little  figure  of  Herndon. 

"  There  they  are! "  exclaimed  Archie;  and 
he  came  forward  hastily,  and,  grasping  first  one 
and  then  another  by  the  hand  until  he  had 
greeted  them  all,  added: 

"  Was  I  not  right,  Dick?  Isn't  Jack  the  same 
old  Jack? " 


THE  KEY  TO  THE  MYSTERY    333 

"  Just  the  same,  Archie,"  was  the  smiling 
reply.  "  He  has  not  changed  a  bit." 

And  John  Hertford,  rightful  Earl  of  Ashton 
and  Cowingford,  kissed  his  children  with  a  new 
and  strange  tenderness,  and  walked  beside  his 
wife  towards  their  home,  with  a  new  lightness 
in  his  step  and  a  perfect  peace  in  his  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   AFTERMATH 

THERE  is  in  the  life  of  every  man  a  day  which 
may  correctly  be  termed  a  day  of  fate.  Such  a 
day  certainly  came  into  the  life  of  Richard  Hert- 
ford during  the  winter  which  followed  the  reve- 
lations made  in  the  rookery  down  by  the  brook. 

It  happened  immediately  after  the  holiday 
season,  and  was  the  result  of  many  talks  between 
him  and  the  earl,  for  as  soon  as  the  strangeness 
of  their  relations  had  worn  off,  they  became  in- 
separable friends  and  constant  companions;  but 
it  was  the  direct  consequence  of  a  conversation 
which  followed  an  announcement  made  by  Richard 
that  he  intended  to  start  away  again  upon  one 
of  his  endless  voyages  as  soon  as  the  season  was 
sufficiently  advanced  for  him  to  do  so. 

Argument  against  this  determination  on  his 
part  was  without  avail,  and  at  last,  the  earl, 
finding  that  nothing  could  shake  his  cousin's 
purpose,  said: 

"  Richard,  since  you  are  determined  to  go, 
334 


THE  AFTERMATH  335 

there  is  one  thing  which  I  wish  you  would  do  for 
me  —  something  which  I  cannot  do  for  myself. 
Do  you  think  you  will  understand  and  appreciate 
the  motive  that  influences  me  when  I  tell  you 
what  it  is?  " 

"  I  think  so,  Jack;  what  is  it?  " 

"  I  have  never  known  and  have  never  sought 
to  know  anything  concerning  Henry  Hollister 
and  his  daughter  Hope,  since  that  hour  in  the 
counting-room  of  the  bank  when  I  believed  that 
I  had  killed  him  and  had  parted  from  her  for  ever. 
I  would  have  news  of  them.  Will  you  get  it  for 
me?  " 

Richard  did  not  immediately  reply.  He  re- 
mained silent  so  long  that  the  earl  looked  upon 
him  in  surprise,  believing  that  he  might  have 
been  misjudged;  but  he  awaited  the  response  to 
his  question  without  further  remark,  and  at  last 
it  came. 

"  Tell  me  just  what  you  wish  me  to  do,"  said 
Richard. 

"  I  wish  you  would' go  to  New  York,  spend  some 
time  there,  make  the  acquaintance  of  Hope  and 
her  father  — or  rather  of  Henry  Hollister  and 
his  daughter,  and  then  write  to  me  about  them. 
You  know  that  my  original  identity  is  for  ever 
buried  in  the  grave  with  my  brother  in  Borneo  - 
that  grave  which  I  know  it  is  your  intention  to 


336     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

visit  before  your  next  trip  is  completed.  I  can 
never  be  made  known  to  the  Hollisters  as  the 
same  man  who  spent  his  boyhood  and  young 
manhood  in  their  home;  I  must  remain  dead  to 
them  for  ever,  but  I  would  be  less  than  a  man  if  I 
did  not  hope  to  know  something  concerning 
them  —  did  I  voluntarily  remain  in  ignorance 
of  everything  connected  with  them. 

"  I  loved  Henry  Hollister  as  I  would  have 
loved  my  own  father  had  I  ever  been  permitted 
to  know  him;  I  loved  Hope  with  all  the  ardour 
of  my  youth;  I  love  her  now,  just  as  I  loved  her 
when  I  wore  knickerbockers  and  she  was  in  short 
dresses  —  as  a  brother  loves  a  dear  sister.  I 
need  not  assure  you  that  there  is  not  a  thought 
in  my  soul  concerning  her  which  does  not  purify, 
augment,  and  exalt  the  love  that  I  bear  for  my 
wife;  I  —  " 

"  Hush,  Jack.  It  is  unnecessary  for  you  to  say 
such  things." 

"  I  know  that,  Dick;  but  I  wish  you  to  under- 
stand just  why  I  wish  you  to  do  this  thing  for  me." 

"  I  understand  it  now,  better  than  you  could 
explain  it  to  me,  so  there  is  no  need  for  words." 

"  Then  you  will  do  what  I  ask?  " 

"  Certainly.    I  had  not  thought  of  refusing." 

"  That  is  like  your  generous  heart,  Dick.  You 
Joiow  that  Henry  Hollister  and  my  father  were 


THE  AFTERMATH  337 

classmates  at  Oxford,  and  that  the  kind  old 
banker  remembered  his  friend  sufficiently  well 
to  bestow  his  name  upon  the  foundling  discovered 
upon  his  doorstep,  little  dreaming  that  he  was 
naming  the  child  for  its  father.  I  know  Henry 
Hollister's  hospitable  ways.  You  will  be  invited 
to  his  home.  You  will  meet  Hope ;  doubtless  she 
is  married  ere  this;  but  if  you  do  not  meet  her 
you  will  hear  of  her,  and  when  I  know  that  she 
is  happy  and  contented,  I  shall  feel  that  the 
last  shadow  has  departed  from  my  life.  Will  you 
do  an  this? " 

"  Yes." 

"  Thank  you,  Richard.  There  is  only  one 
reservation  I  would  make  in  what  you  are  to  do. 
I  would  request  that  there  be  no  mention  of  the 
name  of  John  Ashton,  unless,  indeed,  you  feel 
that  you  are  empowered  to  convince  them  in  some 
way  that  he  is  dead." 

Shortly  after  the  New  Year,  Richard  Hertford 
sailed  for  New  York.  He  arrived  in  the  morning 
and  that  same  afternoon  called  upon  the  banker, 
who  was  still  vigorous  and  full  of  that  unyielding 
energy  which  had  made  him  a  successful  business 
man ;  and  when  Henry  Hollister  learned  the  name 
of  his  caller,  and  knew  who  he  was,  the  English- 
man found  awaiting  him  a  welcome  such  as  he  had 
never  received  before. 


338    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

The  banker  made  him  his  guest  on  the  spot, 
sweeping  away  every  objection  which  Hertford 
could  offer,  in  the  blunt,  hearty  way  which 
afforded  no  opportunity  for  argument.  His 
baggage  was  reclaimed  from  the  hotel  where  it 
had  been  sent,  and  before  sundown  he  was 
standing  in  the  drawing-room  of  the  Hollister 
mansion,  with  the  right  hand  of  Hope  Hollister 
clasped  in  his  own. 

He  uttered  some  commonplace  phrases  about 
being  happy  to  make  her  acquaintance,  vaguely 
conscious  of  the  fact  that  his  utterances  were  mere 
platitudes,  and  that  he  was  experiencing  a  thrill 
such  as  he  had  never  known  before,  not  even  when 
he  parted  from  Mercy  Covington  for  the  last 
time  before  he  went  away  into  the  wilderness  in 
order  that  his  cousin  Jack  might  win  her.  That  is 
how  it  happened  to  be  his  day  of  fate  —  and 
hers. 

He  had  intended  to  remain  a  week  at  the  most 
in  New  York;  but  the  week  lengthened  into  a 
month,  and  the  month  into  two  more,  before  he 
decided  that  he  must  go;  and  then  he  went  to 
Henry  Hollister  and  told  him  that  he  had  de- 
cided to  take  a  companion  with  him  in  the  future, 
and  that  his  daughter  Hope  had  consented,  sub- 
ject to  his  approval,  to  accompany  him. 

During  his  stay  at  the  home  of  the  Hollisters 


THE  AFTERMATH  339 

he  sent  frequent  letters  to  the  earl,  and  an  ex- 
tract from  one  of  them,  written  on  the  eve  of  his 
departure  from  America,  speaks  for  itself: 

"  We  are  to  be  married  to-morrow  morning 
at  ten.  The  wedding  will  be  a  quiet  one  at  the 
house;  we  both  preferred  it  so,  and  at  noon  we 
sail  for  Gibraltar.  Within  a  few  months  —  I 
cannot  now  fix  the  time  —  we  will  arrive  in  Eng- 
land, and  with  your  permission,  I  shall  bring 
Hope  straight  to  the  Hall;  and  I  shall  take  the 
liberty  of  advising  her  father  of  the  time  of  our 
arrival  and  inviting  him  to  meet  us  there.  Hope 
has  related  to  me  the  story  of  John  Ashton  so 
far  as  it  concerned  her.  She  loved  him  very 
dearly  and  she  loves  his  memory  now,  for  she  is 
convinced  that  he  is  dead.  Her  father  has  never 
mentioned  the  name  to  me,  and  of  course  never 
will  do  so.  It  is  a  strange  destiny,  Jack,  that  has 
come  to  you  and  to  me,  for  we  each  have  for 
our  wife  a  woman  who  was  once  beloved  by  the 
other.  ...  All  this  will  do  away  with  the  last 
shadow  that  shrouded  your  life,  but  there  is 
one  that  hangs  over  me  still,  and  I  shall  not  die 
until  it  is  dispelled.  I  refer  to  the  mystery  which 
surrounds  the  fate  of  your  brother.  It  is  a  task 
that  I  have  given  myself,  to  discover  who  and 
what  it  was  that  called  him  out  that  night,  and 


340     A  GENTLEMAN  OF   QUALITY 

what  it  was  that  injured  him  so  that  he  wandered 
away  an  imbecile,  ultimately  to  die  in  that 
blistering  Bornean  hell;  and  yet  I  cannot  help 
doubting  that  I  will  ever  know  more  than  I  know 
now  —  which  is  nothing.  Had  his  life  been  less 
perfect  than  it  was,  had  his  character  not  always 
been  above  and  beyond  reproach,  I  should  adhere 
to  my  original  idea  that  it  was  the  result  of  the 
jealousy  of  a  woman.  I  know  that  I  have  your 
blessing  in  this  new  happiness  that  has  come  to 
me,  and  Dean  Douglass  would  assure  me  that  the 
hand  of  God  has  directed  it  all;  if  that  is  true, 
then  I  thank  God  with  all  my  heart. 

"  I  have  neglected  to  tell  you  that  I  have  seen 
a  photograph  of  John  Ashton,  taken  about  a 
month  before  he  left  New  York,  and  I  must  con- 
fess that  Hope  was  correct  when  she  informed 
me  that  he  might  have  been  my  own  brother 
some  years  younger.  Ashton  wore  his  beard  as 
I  do  mine,  and  there  certainly  is  a  strong  resem- 
blance. If  you  should  raise  a  beard  I  think  we 
would  resemble  each  other." 

And  so  it  came  to  pass  that  when  another 
Christmas  tide  arrived,  Hertford  Hall  became  the 
centre  of  a  strangely  reunited  group,  for  gathered 
around  the  Yule  log  that  burned  and  glowed  in 
the  great  fireplace  were  the  principal  characters 


THE  AFTERMATH  341 

of  this  strange  history,  and  in  the  background, 
constantly  watchful  for  the  comfort  of  every- 
body save  himself,  was  Robert,  hale,  hearty, 
complacently  content. 

There  had  been  nothing  remarkable  about  the 
meeting  between  Hope  Hertford  and  the  earl.  If 
vaguely  he  reminded  her  of  one  who  was  dead, 
she  made  no  comment,  nor  gave  the  matter  more 
than  a  reflective  thought;  it  was  an  experience 
sufficiently  common  to  see  in  one  person  charac- 
teristics or  features  which  bring  to  mind  memories 
of  another.  The  earl  made  no  sign  that  he  had 
ever  seen  her  before;  still,  there  was  an  added 
gladness  in  his  heart  when  he  encountered  her 
and  knew  beyond  a  doubt  that  she  had  found 
supreme  happiness  in  her  union  with  Richard 
Hertford. 

Mercy  referred  to  the  subject  once,  and  then 
dismissed  it  for  ever. 

"  Is  this  the  Hope  Hollister  that  you  knew, 
or  thought  you  knew,  during  the  years  of  for- 
getfulness?  "  she  asked  her  husband;  and  he 
answered : 

"Yes;    she  is  the  same,  but  she  does  not 

recognize  me." 

Two  years  later,  also  at  Christmas  tide,  the 
same  party  was  again  gathered  at  the  Hall,  and 


342     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

with  them  a  number  of  invited  guests  from  the 
country  round.  The  great  ballroom  of  the  Hall 
had  been  thrown  open;  a  roaring  fire  gleamed 
in  the  massive  chimney;  children  romped  upon 
the  floor;  a  decorated  tree  glistened  and  groaned 
beneath  its  weight  of  presents;  the  guests  were 
gathered  in  groups  watching  the  children  at  their 
sports,  and  the  atmosphere  was  filled  with  joy 
and  enchantment,  when  old  Robert  made  his 
appearance  and  approached  his  master. 

Half  way  across  the  room  he  paused,  hesitated 
a  moment,  and  then,  retracing  his  steps,  went  to 
Richard  Hertford  and  whispered  something  in 
his  ear. 

Hertford  started  perceptibly,  hesitated  an  in- 
stant, and  then  followed  Robert  from  the  room. 

Neither  spoke  until  they  were  in  a  remote  part 
of  the  house,  and  then  Robert  paused. 

"  Can  it  be  the  same,  Mr.  Richard?  "  he  asked 
anxiously. 

"  Without  doubt.  Where  is  he?  "  was  the 
instant  reply. 

"  It  was  a  man  before;  it  is  a  woman  this  time, 
sir,"  said  Robert. 

"  Was  the  message  given  in  just  the  same 
manner?  " 

"Yes,  sir;  precisely.  She  said:  'Tell  him 
that  his  friend  Tom  wishes  to  see  him;  he  will 


THE  AFTERMATH  343 

understand.'  I  nearly  fainted  with  fright,  sir, 
and  I  thought  it  best  to  go  to  you  instead  of 
taking  the  message  to  Mr.  Jack." 

"  Quite  right,  Robert;  quite  right.  It  is  much 
better  that  I  should  see  this  person.  You  say 
that  it  is  a  woman?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  Where  is  she?  " 

"  At  the  east  door.  Shall  I  accompany  you, 
sir?  " 

"No;  I  will  go  alone." 

'  You  will  be  cautious,  sir.  Do  not,  I  pray 
you,  forget  what  happened  to  Mr.  Jack  when,  on 
the  evening  of  his  wedding  reception,  he  was 
summoned  from  us  in  the  same  manner." 

"  I  will  not  forget.    Wait  here  for  me,  Robert." 

The  old  man  bowed,  and  Richard  Hertford 
turned  and  went  out  alone  into  the  night,  his 
heart  beating  strangely,  for  he  felt  that  the 
mystery  which  had  seemed  to  be  beyond  solu- 
tion was  about  to  be  explained  at  last. 

Before  he  opened  the  door  he  remained  a 
moment  in  the  darkened  hallway,  the  better  to 
accustom  his  eyes  to  the  gloom  without,  for  he 
did  not  know  what  he  had  to  face;  then  he 
opened  the  door  suddenly  and  stepped  outside, 
closing  it  behind  him. 

There  was  a  figure  there  confronting  him  —  the 


344    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

figure  of  a  woman;  but  when  he  appeared  she 
started  back  with  a  low  cry,  and  he,  without 
hesitation,  sprang  forward  and  seized  the  woman 
by  the  wrist,  for  she  had  raised  one  arm  and  he 
saw  that  something  gleamed  in  her  grasp. 

"  Who  are  you  and  what  do  you  want? "  he 
demanded  coldly,  speaking  in  a  tone  that  might 
not  have  been  overheard  a  dozen  feet  away. 

"  You  are  not  John  Hertford! "  she  cried 
hoarsely.  "  Why  did  not  he  come?  I  did  not 
send  for  you.  You  are  Richard  Hertford,  not 
John.  Where  is  John?  Why  did  he  not  come 
when  I  sent  for  him?  He  promised  that  he  would 
always  obey  when  I  sent  for  him,  and  he  did  so 
once ;  but  not  this  time  —  not  this  time.  Go 
back  and  send  him  to  me." 

Instantly  Richard  realized  that  he  had  to  deal 
with  one  who  had  lost  her  reason,  and,  always 
quick  to  think  and  to  act,  he  replied  calmly : 

"  He  is  ill.    He  must  see  you  inside.    Come." 

He  drew  her  towards  the  door,  opened  it  and 
gently  forced  her  to  follow  him  into  the  house, 
where,  still  exerting  persuasive  force,  he  con- 
ducted her  to  a  deserted  room,  calling  to  Robert 
as  he  went. 

"  Stand  here  near  the  door,"  he  said  to  the 
old  servant,  "  and  permit  nobody  to  enter.  I 
will  summon  you  if  it  is  necessary." 


THE  AFTERMATH  345 

"Where  is  John  Hertford?"  demanded  the 
woman  when  they  were  alone  in  the  room  with 
the  door  closed.  "  You  said  that  he  would  see 
me  here.  Is  he  not  coming?  " 

"  Presently.  You  will  have  to  talk  with  me 
first.  This  is  not  the  first  time  you  have  called 
upon  him  and  sent  the  same  message,  is  it?  Do 
you  remember  the  other  time?  " 

'  Yes ;  it  was  long,  very  long  ago  —  the  night 
after  the  wedding.  Oh,  yes;  I  remember.  It 
was  in  London.  I  stood  outside  and  looked 
through  the  windows  so  long  that  I  got  very  tired. 
Then  a  man  came  along  and  I  made  him  deliver 
the  message  for  me  —  and  presently  John  Hert- 
ford came  out." 

"  What  did  you  do  then?  You  tried  to  kill 
him,  did  you  not?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  simply,  as  though  the  con- 
fession were  a  perfectly  natural  one.  "  I  tried  to 
kill  him  but  I  did  not  succeed.  I  would  not  have 
done  it  if  he  had  not  told  me  that  I  must  go  back 
to  the  place  that  I  hate.  It  was  then,  while  he 
was  holding  me  by  the  arm,  and  trying  to  call  a 
policeman,  that  I  struck  him.  I  am  sorry  that  I 
did  not  kill  him,  but  I  shall  do  it  to-night  if  you 
will  send  him  to  me." 

"Presently;  you  must  tell  me  all  about  it 
first.  Who  are  you  and  why  do  you  wish  to  kill 


346     A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

John  Hertford?  Perhaps  if  you  will  tell  me  all 
about  it  I  can  help  you." 

"  I  am  Janet  Fairfax,"  replied  the  woman. 
"  Did  you  never  hear  of  Janet  Fairfax?  I  should 
have  been  John  Hertford's  mother  if  God  had 
been  just  and  John  Hertford's  father,  the  earl, 
had  been  true.  He  made  me  love  him  and  then  he 
went  away  and  married  another  woman,  and  I 
swore,  and  my  brother,  the  doctor,  also  swore, 
that  their  children  should  perish.  Then,  after 
that,  they  came  and  shut  me  up  in  a  terrible 
place  where  there  are  a  lot  of  people  who  are 
mad,  and  I  have  lived  there  ever  since,  except 
when  I  got  away  from  them  that  other  time  and 
now.  It  was  my  brother  who  shut  me  up,  not 
the  earl.  He  was  kind  and  good  to  me  except 
that  he  made  me  love  him  and  then  went  away; 
but  he  was  never  as  bad  as  my  brother,  the 
doctor,  thought  he  was.  That  was  my  fault, 
for  I  told  my  brother  a  lie,  and  led  him  to  believe 
many  things  that  were  not  true.  Are  you  going 
to  bring  John  Hertford  to  me?  " 

"  Presently.  What  is  that  thing  in  your 
hand?" 

"  A  knife.  I  found  it  in  the  street  before  I  left 
London.  Do  you  think  that  I  can  kill  him  with 
that?" 

"  Perhaps.    Let  me  see  it." 


THE  AFTERMATH  347 

She  gave  it  to  him  obediently  and  he  dropped 
it  into  one  of  his  pockets. 

'  What  did  you  strike  him  with  that  other 
time?  "  Hertford  asked,  still  speaking  calmly. 

"  It  was  a  piece  of  a  garden  rake  that  I  stole 
from  the  grounds  of  the  house  where  they  keep 
me  a  prisoner.  Will  you  give  me  back  the  knife 
now?  " 

"  In  a  moment."  Then,  raising  his  voice,  he 
called  Robert. 

"  Ask  Dean  Douglass  to  come  here,"  he  said 
when  Robert  entered  the  room.  "Do  it  quietly 
so  that  no  one  may  be  alarmed." 

The  sound  of  that  name  produced  a  strange 
effect  upon  the  woman,  for  she  sank  back  upon 
a  chair,  moaning,  "  Not  he!  Not  he! "  The 
shawl  which  had  hitherto  covered  her  head 
dropped  aside,  disclosing  a  profusion  of  hair  as 
white  as  the  snow  on  the  ground  outside,  and  a 
face  that  was  still  strangely  beautiful,  with 
scarcely  a  wrinkle  to  proclaim  the  number  of 
years  that  she  had  lived. 

She  sobbed  on  and  on,  quietly,  until  the  dean 
entered  the  room,  when,  with  a  wild  cry,  she 
sprang  to  her  feet  and  started  towards  the  door. 

"Janet  Fairfax!"  exclaimed  the  dean-  "I 
thought  you  were  dead." 

She  turned  then,  with  all  the  fierceness  of  a 


348    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

tigress,  and  leaped  at  his  throat,  but  the  strong 
arms  of  Richard  Hertford  seized  her  and  held  her 
motionless;  and  while  they  stood  thus  there 
came  a  summons  at  the  same  outer  door  through 
which  she  had  entered  the  house,  and  when 
Robert  opened  it,  he  was  confronted  by  two  men 
who  abruptly  announced  that  they  were  in  search 
of  an  escaped  lunatic,  whom  they  had  tracked 
to  that  door. 

She  was  delivered  over  to  them  and  taken 
away,  and  then  Richard  drew  the  dean  again 
into  the  deserted  room. 

"  Tell  me  all  that  you  know,"  he  said. 

"  The  woman  is  Janet  Fairfax,  the  sister  of  the 
doctor  who  stole  the  child.  I  have  always  been 
led  to  believe  that  she  was  dead,  but  it  seems  I 
was  mistaken.  How  did  she  come  here?  " 

Richard  related  all  that  had  taken  place,  and 
then  the  dean  added: 

"  I  do  not  believe  my  friend  ever  really  wronged 
this  woman.  She  was  a  nighty  girl  and  very 
beautiful.  The  old  earl  certainly  paid  her  a  great 
deal  of  attention,  and  when  she  found  that  it 
was  mere  pastime  on  his  part  and  that  he  had 
married  another,  she  made  charges  which  he 
always  assured  me  were  untrue  —  and  I  believed 
him.  I  believe  him  still.  It  is  our  duty,  however, 
henceforth  to  see  to  it  that  she  is  well  cared  for, 


THE   AFTERMATH  349 

and  that  she  never  has  another  opportunity  to 
fly  from  her  keepers.  It  was  a  narrow  escape, 
Richard.  If  Jack  had  gone  to  the  door  she  would 
have  struck  him  with  the  knife." 

'  Yes;  I  am  glad  that  Robert  had  the  wisdom 
to  come  to  me  with  the  message.  But  the  great 
mystery  is  solved.  We  know  now  what  happened 
to  my  cousin.  But  who  is,  or  was,  the  man  Tom 
to  whom  that  mysterious  message  referred? " 

"Ah!  I  had  forgotten.  When  Janet  Fairfax 
was  a  child  her  father  and  brother  nicknamed 
her  '  Tommy.'  The  name  clung  to  her,  and  by 
her  intimates  she  was  frequently  called  Tom. 
Without  doubt,  our  lost  John  knew  about  that 
past,  and  did  understand  that  friend  Tom  was 
no  other  than  Janet  Fairfax." 

Within  the  ancient  mausoleum  which  adjoins 
the  chapel  of  Hertford  Hall  there  is  a  sealed  tomb 
which  bears  the  following  inscription: 

SACRED  TO  THE   MEMORY 
OF   ONE   WHO   WAS 
LOVED  AND   LOST. 

Richard  Hertford  has  explained  its  presence 
there  by  the  statement  that  encased  therein  are 
the  remains  of  one  who  was  his  companion  during 


350    A  GENTLEMAN  OF  QUALITY 

that  terrible  time  in  Borneo,  when  they  were 
both  slaves  to  a  horde  of  savages.  Before  the 
end  of  the  first  year  of  his  married  life  he  went 
again  to  that  inhospitable  country,  accompanied 
by  a  strong  guard,  found  the  grave  of  the  lost 
earl,  and  conveyed  the  remains  to  England;  so 
that,  after  all,  the  victim  of  the  sins  of  his  father 
rested  beside  him  in  the  family  tomb  at  Hertford 
Hall. 

Later,  when  a  son  was  born  to  Richard  and 
Hope,  it  received  the  name  of  Hollister,  so  that 
Herndon  and  Hollister  Hertford  grew  to  manhood 
side  by  side,  as  Richard  and  John  had  done 
before  them. 


THE   END. 


From 

L.  C.  Page  &  Company's 
Announcement  List 
of  New  Fiction 

The  Call  of  the  South 

BY  ROBERT  LEE  DURHAM.     Cloth  decorative,  with  6  illus- 
trations by  Henry  Roth $1.50 

A  very  strong  novel  dealing  with  the  race  problem  in  this 
country.  The  principal  theme  is  the  danger  to  society  from  the 
increasing  miscegenation  of  the  black  and  white  races,  and  the 
encouragement  it  receives  in  the  social  amenities  extended  to 
negroes  of  distinction  by  persons  prominent  in  politics,  philan- 
thropy and  educational  endeavor;  and  the  author,  a  Southern 
lawyer,  hopes  to  call  the  attention  of  the  whole  country  to  the 
need  of  earnest  work  toward  its  discouragement.  He  ha* 
written  an  absorbing  drama  of  life  which  appeals  with  apparent 
logic  and  of  which  the  inevitable  denouement  comes  aa  a  final 
and  convincing  climax. 

The  author  may  be  criticized  by  those  who  prefer  not  to  face 
the  hour  "  When  Your  Fear  Cometh  As  Desolation  And  Your 
Destruction  Cometh  As  A  Whirlwind;  "  but  his  honesty  of 
purpose  in  the  frank  expression  of  a  danger  so  well  understood 
in  the  South,  which,  however,  many  in  the  North  refuse  to 
recognize,  while  others  have  overlooked  it,  will  be  upheld  by 
the  sober  second  thought  of  the  majority  of  bis  re&dero. 


L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY'S 


The  House  in  the  Water 

BY  CHARLES  G.  D.  ROBERTS,  author  of  "  The  Haunters  of 
the  Silences,"  "Red  Fox,"  "The  Heart  of  the  Ancient 
Wood,"  etc.  With  cover  design,  sixteen  full-page  drawings, 
and  many  minor  decorations  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 
Cloth  decorative,  with  decorated  wrapper  .  .  $1.50 

Professor  Roberts's  new  book  of  nature  and  animal  life  is  one 
long  story  in  which  he  tells  of  the  life  of  that  wonderfully  acute 
and  tireless  little  worker,  the  beaver.  "  The  Boy  "  and  Jabe 
the  Woodsman  again  appear,  figuring  in  the  story  even  more 
than  they  did  in  "  Red  Fox;  "  and  the  adventures  of  the  boy 
and  the  beaver  make  most  absorbing  reading  for  young  and 
old. 

The  following  chapter  headings  for  "  The  House  in  the 
Water  "  will  give  an  idea  of  the  fascinating  reading  to  come: 

THE  SOUND  IN  THE  NIGHT     (Beavers  at  Work). 

THE  BATTLE  IN  THE  POND     (Otter  and  Beaver). 

IN  THE  UNDER-WATER  WORLD     (Home  Life  of  the  Beaver). 

NIGHT  WATCHERS    ("  The  Boy  "  and  Jabe  and  a  Lynx  See 

the  Beavers  at  Work). 
DAM  REPAIRING  AND  DAM  BUILDING    (A  "  House-raising " 

Bee). 

THE  PERIL  OF  THE  TRAPS    (Jabe  Shows  "  The  Boy"). 
WINTER  UNDER  WATER     (Safe  from  All  but  Man). 
THE  SAVING  OP  BOY'S  POND     ("  The  Boy  "   Captures  Two 

Outlaws). 

"  As  a  writer  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an  enviable 
place.  He  is  the  most  literary,  as  well  as  the  most  imaginative 
and  vivid  of  all  the  nature  writers."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"  His  animal  stories  are  marvels  of  sympathetic  science  and 
literary  exactness."  —  New  York  World. 

"  Poet  Laureate  of  the  Animal  World,  Professor  Roberts 
displays  the  keenest  powers  of  observation  closely  interwoven 
with  a  fine  imaginative  discretion."  —  Boston  Transcript. 


LIST  OF  NEW  FICTION 


Captain  Love 

THE  HISTORY  OF  A  MOST  ROMANTIC  EVENT  IN  THE  LIFE  or 
AN  ENGLISH  GENTLEMAN  DURING  THE  REIGN  OF  His  MAJESTY 
GEORGE  THE  FIRST.  CONTAINING  INCIDENTS  OF  COURTSHIP 
AND  DANGER  AS  RELATED  IN  THE  CHRONICLES  OF  THE  PERIOD 
AND  Now  SET  DOWN  IN  PRINT 

BY  THEODORE  ROBERTS,  author  of  "  The  Red  Feathers," 
"  Brothers  of  Peril,"  etc.  Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  by 
Frank  T.  Merrill $1.50 

A  stirring  romance  with  its  scene  laid  in  the  troublous  times 
in  England  when  so  many  broken  gentlemen  foregathered  with 
the  "  Knights  of  the  Road;  "  when  a  man  might  lose  part  of 
his  purse  to  his  opponent  at  "  White's  "  over  the  dice,  and  the 
next  day  be  relieved  of  the  rest  of  his  money  on  some  lonely 
heath  at  the  point  of  a  pistol  in  the  hand  of  the  self-same  gambler. 

But,  if  the  setting  be  similar  to  other  novels  of  the  period,  the 
story  is  not.  Mr.  Roberta's  work  is  always  original,  his  style  is 
always  graceful,  his  imagination  fine,  his  situations  refreshingly 
novel.  In  his  new  book  he  has  excelled  himself.  It  is  un- 
doubtedly the  best  thing  he  has  done. 

Bahama  Bill 

BY  T.  JENKINS  HAINS,  author  of  "  The  Black  Barque," 
"  The  Voyage  of  the  Arrow,"  etc.  Cloth  decorative,  with 
frontispiece  in  colors  by  H.  R.  Reuterdahl  .  $1.50 

The  scene  of  Captain  Hains's  new  sea  story  is  laid  in  the 
region  of  the  Florida  Keys.  His  hero,  the  giant  mate  of  the 
wrecking  sloop,  Sea-Horse,  while  not  one  to  stir  the  emotions 
of  gentle  feminine  readers,  will  arouse  interest  and  admiration 
in  men  who  appreciate  bravery  and  daring. 

His  adventures  while  plying  his  desperate  trade  are  full  of 
the  danger  that  holds  one  at  a  sharp  tension,  and  the  reader 
forgets  to  be  on  the  side  of  law  and  order  in  his  eagerness  to  see 
the  "  wrecker  "  safely  through  his  exciting  escapades. 

Captain  Hains's  descriptions  of  life  at  sea  are  vivid,  absorbingly 
frank  and  remarkably  true.  "  Bahama  Bill  "  ranks  high  aa 
a  stirring,  realistic,  unspftened  and  undiluted  tale  of  the  - 
chock  full  of  engrossing  interest. 


L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY'S 


Matthew  Porter 

BY  GAMALIEL  BRADFORD,  JR.,  author  of  "  The  Private  Tutor," 
etc.      With  a  frontispiece  in  colors  by  Griswold  Tyng     $1.50 
When  a  young  man  has  birth  and  character  and  strong  ambi- 
tion it  is  safe  to  predict  for  him  a  brilliant  career;    and,  when 
The  Girl  comes  into  his  life,  a  romance  out  of  the  ordinary. 
Such  a  man  is  Matthew  Porter,  and  the  author  has  drawn  him 
with  fine  power. 

Mr.  Bradford  has  given  us  a  charming  romance  with  an 
unusual  motive.  Effective  glimpses  of  the  social  life  of  Boston 
form  a  contrast  to  the  more  serious  purpose  of  the  story;  but, 
in  "  Matthew  Porter,"  it  is  the  conflict  of  personalities,  the 
development  of  character,  the  human  element  which  grips  the 
attention  and  compels  admiration. 

Anne  of  Green  Gables 

BY  L.  M.  MONTGOMERY.  Cloth  decorative,  illustrated  $1.50 
Every  one,  young  or  old,  who  reads  the  story  of  "  Anne  of 
Green  Gables,"  will  fall  in  love  with  her,  and  tell  their  friends 
of  her  irresistible  charm.  In  her  creation  of  the  young  heroine 
of  this  delightful  tale  Miss  Montgomery  will  receive  praise  for 
her  fine  sympathy  with  and  delicate  appreciation  of  sensitive 
and  imaginative  girlhood. 

The  story  would  take  rank  for  the  character  of  Anne  alone; 
but  in  the  delineation  of  the  characters  of  the  old  farmer,  and 
his  crabbed,  dried-up  spinster  sister  who  adopt  her,  the  author 
has  shown  an  insight  and  descriptive  power  which  add  much  to 
the  fascination  of  the  book. 

Spinster  Farm 

BY  HELEN  M.  WINSLOW,  author  of  "  Literary  Boston."    Illus- 
trated from  original  photographs      ....      $1.50 
Whatever  Miss  Winslow  writes  is  good,  for  she  is  in  accord 
with  the  life  worth  living.    The  Spinster,  her  niece  "  Peggy," 
the    Professor,    and    young   Robert    Graves,  —  not    forgetting 
Hiram,  the  hired  man,  —  are   the  characters  to  whom  we  are 
introduced  on  "  Spinster  Farm."     Most  of  the  incidents  and 
all  of  the  characters  are  real,  as  well  as  the  farm  and  farmhouse, 
unchanged  since  Colonial  days. 

Light-hearted  character  sketches,  and  equally  refreshing  and 
unexpected  happenings  are  woven  together  with  a  thread  of 
happy  romance  of  which  Peggy  of  course  is  the  vivacious  heroine. 
Alluring  descriptions  of  nature  and  country  life  are  given  with 
fascinating  bits  of  biography  of  the  farm  animals  and  household 
pets. 


Selections  from 

L.  C.  Page  and  Company's 

List  of  Fiction 


WORKS  OF 

ROBERT  NEILSON  STEPHENS 

Each,  one  vol.,  library  zftnt,  doth  decorative    .        . 
The  Flight  of  Qeorgiana 

A  ROMANCE  or  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  YOUNG  PRETENDER.    Illus- 
trated by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

"  A  love-story  in  the  highest  degree,  a  dashing  story,  and  a  re- 
markably well  finished  piece  of  work."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

The  Bright  Face  of  Danger 

Being  an  account  of  some  adventures  of  Henri  de  Launay,  son  of 

the  Sieur  de  la  Tournoire.     Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

"  Mr.   Stephens   has  fairly  outdone    himself.      We  thank  him 

heartily.    The   story  is   nothing  if  not  spirited  and  entertaining, 

rational  and  convincing."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

The  Mystery  of  Murray  Davenport 

(40th  thousand.) 

"  This  is  easily  the  best  thing  that  Mr.  Stephens  has  yet  done. 
Those  familiar  with  his  other  novels  can  best  judge  the  measure  of 
this  praise,  which  is  generous."  —  Buffalo  Newt. 

Captain  Ravenshaw 

OR,  THE  MAID  OF  CHEAPSIDE.    (sad  thousand.)    A  romance 
of  Elizabethan  London.    Illustrations  by  Howard  Pyle  and  oth«r 

artists. 

Not  since  the  absorbing  adventures  of  D'Artagnan  have  w«  had 
anything  so  good  in  the  blended  vein  of  romance  and  conwdy. 

The  Continental  Dragoon 

A  ROMANCE  or  PHILIFIE  MANOR    HOUSE   IN    1778-      ($J* 

thousand.)     Illustrated  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

A  stirring  romanc.  of  tht  Evolution,  with  its  scene  laid  oo 

neutral  territory. 


L.  C.  PAGE   <Sr»    COMPANY'S 


Philip  Winwood 

(7Oth  thousand.)  A  Sketch  of  the  Domestic  History  of  an 
American  Captain  in  the  War  of  Independence,  embracing  events 
that  occurred  between  and  during  the  years  1763  and  1785  in 
New  York  and  London.  Illustrated  by  E.  W.  D.  Hamilton. 

An  Enemy  to  the  King 

(7oth  thousand.)     From  the  "  Recently  Discovered  Memoirs   of 
the  Sieur  de  la  Tournoire."     Illustrated  by  H.  De  M.  Young. 
An   historical  romance  of  the   sixteenth  century,  describing  the 

adventures  of  a  young  French  nobleman  at  the  court  of  Henry  III., 

and  on  the  field  with  Henry  IV. 

The  Road  to  Paris 

A  STORY  OF  ADVENTURE.      (3$th  thousand.)      Illustrated  by 

H.  C.  Edwards. 

An  historical  romance  of  the  eighteenth  century,  being  an  account 
of  the  life  of  an  American  gentleman  adventurer  of  Jacobite  an- 
cestry. 

A  Gentleman  Player 

His  ADVENTURES  ON  A  SECRET  MISSION  FOR  QUEEN  ELIZA- 
•  BETH.  (48th  thousand.)  Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

The  story  of  a  young  gentleman  who  joins  Shakespeare's  com- 
pany of  players,  and  becomes  a  friend  and  protege  of  the  great 
poet. 

Clementina's  Highwayman 

Cloth  decorative,  illustrated $1-50 

Mr.  Stephens  has  put  into  his  new  book, "  Clementina's  Highway 
man,"  the  finest  qualities  of  plot,  construction,  and  literary  finish. 

The  story  is  laid  in  the  mid-Georgian  period.  It  is  a  dashing, 
sparkling,  vivacious  comedy,  with  a  heroine  as  lovely  and  changeable 
as  an  April  day,  and  a  hero  all  ardor  and  daring. 

The  exquisite  quality  of  Mr.  Stephens's  literary  style  clothes  the 
story  i»  a  rich  but  delicate  word-fabric ;  and  never  before  have  his 
setting  and  atmosphere  been  so  perfect. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


WORKS  OF 

CHARLES  G.  D.  ROBERTS 

Haunters  of  the  Silences 

Cloth,  one  volume,  with  many  drawings  by  Charles  Livingston 
Bull,  four  of  which  are  in  full  color  ....  $2.00 

The  stories  in  Mr.  Roberts's  new  collection  are  the  strongest  and 
best  he  has  ever  written. 

He  has  largely  taken  for  his  subjects  those  animals  rarely  met 
with  in  books,  whose  lives  are  spent  "  In  the  Silences,"  where  they 
are  the  supreme  rulers.  Mr.  Roberts  has  written  of  them  sympa- 
thetically, as  always,  but  with  fine  regard  for  the  scientific  truth. 

"  As  a  writer  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an  enviable 
place.  He  is  the  most  literary,  as  well  as  the  most  imaginative 
and  vivid  of  all  the  nature  writers." —  Brooklyn  Eaglt. 

"  His  animal  stories  are  marvels  of  sympathetic  science  and  liter- 
ary exactness." —  New  York  World. 

Red  Fox 

THE  STORY  or  His  ADVENTUROUS  CAREER  IN  THE  RINCWAAK 
WILDS,  AND  OF  His  FINAL  TRIUMPH  OVER  THE  ENEMIES  or 
His  KIND.  With  fifty  illustrations,  including  frontispiece  in 
color  and  cover  design  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  cloth  decorative f  2.00 

"Infinitely  more  wholesome  reading   than  the  average  tale  of 

sport,  since  it  gives  a  glimpse  of  the  hunt  from  the  point  of  view  of 

the  hunted." —  Boston  Transcript. 

"True  in   substance  but  fascinating  as  fiction.    It  will  interest 

old  and  young,  city-bound  and  free-footed,  those  who  know  animals 

and  those  who  do  not."  —  Chicago  Record- Her  old. 
"A  brilliant  chapter  in  natural  history."  —  Philadtlphia  North 

Amtritan. 


L.  C.  PAGE   &•    COMPANY'S 


The  Kindred  of  the  Wild 

A  BOOK  OF  ANIMAL  LIFE.  With  fifty-one  full-page  plates  and 
many  decorations  from  drawings  by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  decorative  cover $2.00 

"  Is  in  many  ways  the  most  brilliant  collection  of  animal  stories 
that  has  appeared;  well  named  and  well  done." — John  Burroughs. 

The  Watchers  of  the  Trails 

A  companion  volume  to  "  The  Kindred  of  the  Wild."  With 
forty-eight  full-page  plates  and  many  decorations  from  drawings 
by  Charles  Livingston  Bull. 

Square  quarto,  decorative  cover $2.00 

"  These  stories  are  exquisite  in  their  refinement,  and  yet  robust 

in  their  appreciation  of  some  of  the  rougher  phases  of  woodcraft. 

Among  the  many  writers  about  animals,  Mr.  Roberts  occupies  an 

enviable  place.  —  The  Outlook. 

"  This  is  a  book  full  of  delight.     An  additional  charm  lies  in  Mr. 

Bull's  faithful  and  graphic  illustrations,  which  in  fashion  all   their 

own  tell  the  story  of  the  wild  life,  illuminating  and  supplementing 

the  pen  pictures  of  the  author." — Literary  Digest. 

The  Heart  That  Knows 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover         ....    $1.50 
"A  novel  of  singularly  effective  strength,  luminous   in   literary 
color,  rich  in  its  passionate,  yet  tender  drama."  —  New  York  Globe. 

Earth's  Enigmas 

A  new  edition  of  Mr.  Roberts's  first  volume  of  fiction,  published 
in  1892,  and  out  of  print  for  several  years,  with  the  addition  of 
three  new  stories,  and  ten  illustrations  by  Charles  Livingston 
Bull. 

Library  I2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover          .        .        .        .    £1.50 
"  It    will    rank   high    among  collections   of    short   stories.      In 
'  Earth's  Enigmas '  is  a  wider  range  of   subject  than  in  the  '  Kin- 
dred of  the  Wild.'" — Review  from  advance  sheets  of  the  illustrated 
edition  by  Tiffany  Blake  in  the  Chicago  Evening  Post. 

Barbara  Ladd 

With  four  illustrations  by  Frank  Verbeck. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover          ....     $1.50 

"  From  the  opening  chapter  to  the  final  page  Mr.  Roberts  lures 

us  on  by  his  rapt  devotion  to  the  changing  aspects  of  Nature  and 

by  his  keen  and  sympathetic  analysis  of  human  character."  —  Boston 

Transcript. 


LIST  OF  FICTION 


Cameron  of  Loch  lei 

Translated  from  the  French  of  Philippe  Aubert  d«  Gaapl,  with 

frontispiece  in  color  by  H.  C.  Edwards. 

Library  iamo,  cloth  decorative $1-50 

"  Professor  Roberts  deserves  the  thanks  of  his  reader  for  giving 
a  wider  audience  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  this  striking  bit  of  French 
Canadian  literature."  —  Brooklyn  Eagle. 

"  It  is  not  often  in  these  days  of  sensational  and  philosophical 
novels  that  one  picks  up  a  book  that  so  touches  the  heart"  — 
Boston  Transcript. 

The  Prisoner  of  Mademoiselle 

With  frontispiece  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth  decorative,  gilt  top      .        .        .        .    $1.50 

A  tale  of  Acadia,  — a  land  which  is  the  author's  heart's  delight, 
—  of  a  valiant  young  lieutenant  and  a  winsome  maiden,  who  first 
captures  and  then  captivates. 

"  This  is  the  kind  of  a  story  that  makes  one  grow  younger,  more 
innocent,  more  light-hearted.  Its  literary  quality  is  impeccable. 
It  is  not  every  day  that  such  a  heroine  blossoms  into  even  tempo- 
rary existence,  and  the  very  name  of  the  story  bears  a  breath  of 
charm."  —  Chicago  Record-Herald. 

The  Heart  of  the  Ancient  Wood 

With  six  illustrations  by  James  L.  Weston. 

Library  I2mo,  decorative  cover fi-5° 

"One  of  the  most  fascinating  novels  of  recent  days." — Boston 
Journal. 

"  A  classic  twentieth-century  romance."  —  New  York  Commercial 
Advertiser. 

The  Forge  in  the  Forest 

Being   the   Narrative   of   the    Acadian   Ranger,   Jean    de    Mer, 
Seigneur  de  Briart,  and  how  he  crossed  the  Black  AbW,  and  of 
his  adventures  in  a  strange  fellowship.      Dlustrated   by  Henry 
Sandham,  R.  C.  A. 
Library  i  amo,  cloth,  gilt  top |i-S° 

A  story  of  pure  love  and  heroic  adventure. 

By  the  Marshes  of  Minas 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  illustrated    ....    $i-5° 
Most   of  these  romances  are  in   the   author'*  lighter  and  more 

playful  rein;  each  is  a  unit  of  absorbing  interest  and  exquisite 

workmanship. 


L.  C.  PAGE  6-    COMPANY'S 


A  Sister  to  Evangeline 

Being  the  Sivy  of  YTonne  dc  Lamourie,  and  how  she  went  into 
exile  with  the  villagers  of  Grand  Pre. 

Library  i  zmo,  doth,  gflt  top,  illustrated     ....    $1.50 
Swift  artk»,  fresh  atmosphere,  wholesome  parity,  deep  passion, 
and  searching  analysis  characterize  this  strong  novel. 


WORKS  OF 

LILIAN  BELL 

Carol  i  na  Lee 

With  a  frontispiece  in  color  from  an  ofl  painting  by  Dora  Wheeler 
Keith.     Library  izmo,  doth,  decorative  cover   .        .         .    £1.50 

•  A  Christian  Stifmrr  novel.  foil  of  action,  alive  with  incident  and 
twhfr  with  pithy  di«loga»  and  homor."  —  Bottom  Transcript. 

•  A  charming  portrayal  of  the  attractive  fife  of  the  South,  refresh- 
ing as  a  breeze  that  blows  through  a  pine  forest."  —  Albany  Ttmtf- 


Hope  Loring 

Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  MerrflL 

Library  izmo,  doth,  decoratiTe  cover  ....  $1.50 
•Tall,  slender,  and  athletic,  fragile-looking,  yet  with  nerves  and 
sinews  of  steel  under  the  »eltet  flesh,  frank  as  a  boy  and  tender  and 
beautiful  as  a  woman,  free  and  independent,  yet  not  bold  —  such  n 
*  Hope  Loring,"  by  long  odds  the  subtlest  study  that  has  yet  been 
••rfr  of  the  ftmorinn  guL"  —  Derotity  Dixt  in  tkt  Ntm  York 


Abroad  with  the  Jimmies 

With  a  portrait,  in  dnogravure,  of  the  author. 

Library  1 2mo,  cloth,  decorative  cover          .         .         .         .     $1.50 
•*  Full  of  ozone,  of  snap,  of  ginger,  of  swing  and  momentum."  — 
Ckumg*  Evcrnng  Post. 

At  Home  with  the  Jardines 

A  companion  volume  to  w  Abroad  with  the  Jimmies." 

Library  i  zmo,  doth,  decorative  cover $1.50 

"  Bits  of  gay  humor,  sunny,  whimsical  philosophy,  and  keen  in- 
dubitable insight  into  the  less  evident  aspects  and  workings  of  pure 
human  nature,  with  a  slender  thread  of  a  cleverly  extraneous  love 
•buy,  keep  th«  interest  of  the  reader  fresh." —  Ckuag»  Retard- 
Btrmld. 


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